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TUFTS  UNIVERSITY   LIBRARIES 


iiiiiiiiiiiililiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii  1:111111 1  :iiii:iii I 

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Webster  Family  Library  of  Veterinary  A^edtcme 

Gummings  School  of  Veterinary  Medicthe  at 

Tufts  University 

200  W^stboro  Road 

North  Grafton.  MA  OliM 


'vj 


L  ^  ^       ''in 


igg^SLii^     ^ 


A  VACATION   IN  A 
BUGGY 


BY 


MARIA  LOUISE  POOL 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S    SONS 

@;^£  ^nickcrbothjr  ^nss 
1887 


.vS^OO 


COPYRIGHT   BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
1887 


Press  of 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York 


CONTENTS* 


I.  At  the  Start 
II.  A  Washed  World 

III.  PoNTOOSuc — Fishing  for  a  Boy 

IV.  A  Glimpse  of  Lenox 

V.  A  Hot  Box     .... 
VI.  Hetty  Jane's  Cousin  Emily's  Dog 
VII.  "Arrer-Heads?"  . 
VIII.  A  Useful  Boy 
IX.  Trust  not  a  Pine  Bough 
X.  The  Finish  :  Dulce  Domini 


PAGE 
I 

i8 

33 

48 

62 

82 

96 

109 

124 

141 


*  The  narrative  of  "  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy  "  first  ap- 
peared in  part  in  a  series  of  letters  to  the  New  York 
Evening  Post. 


A  VACATION   IN  A  BUGGY. 


AT   THE   START. 

It  was  Godfrey  Greylock  who 
said  :  "  Somebody  has  called  Berk- 
shire the  Piedmont  of  America.  I 
do  not  know  how  just  the  appella- 
tion may  be,  but  I  do  know  that  if 
Piedmont  can  rightly  be  called  the 
Berkshire  of  Europe,  it  must  be  a 
very  delightful  region." 

It  is  our  purpose  to  prove  this  de- 
lightfulness ;  not  by  means  of  steam- 
engines,  that  snatch  from  the  eyes 
the  joy  of  a  landscape  almost  as  soon 
as   it   has   been  presented ;   but   by 


2       A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

locomotion  through  the  agency  of 
horse-flesh,  which  shall  be  controlled 
at  the  whim  of  the  driver.  We  are 
very  humble,  however.  It  is  but  one 
horse  that  we  have,  "  warranted 
sound  and  kind  in  all  harness,"  with 
a  light  covered  buggy  of  that  shape 
which  permits  of  several  packages  in 
the  box  behind.  The  *'  calash  "  part 
of  it  can  be  tipped  back  at  will.  We 
are  two,  and  we  take  turns  at  driv- 
ing. We  are  not  above  stopping  at 
any  tempting  spot,  and  taking  the 
horse  out  of  the  shafts  while  he  and 
we  lunch  and  generally  refresh  our- 
selves. We  are  also  provided  with  a 
small  box  of  "  patent  axle  grease  " 
and  a  monkey-wrench  ;  so  that  we 
need  not  be  dependent  upon  stable- 
men for  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that  our  wheels  will  not  take  fire 
for  lack  of  lubrication. 

In  the  first  twelve  hours  out,  how- 
ever, we  have  learned  that  we  are 


At  the  Start,  3 

going  to  pay  dear  for  having  said : 
''We  shall  be  able  to  grease  the 
wheels  for  ourselves."  Having  the 
matter  thus  in  our  hands,  we  are  con- 
tinually asking  each  other,  ''  Do  you 
think  there  is  any  danger  of  a  hot- 
box  ?  "  Theoretically  we  know  that 
a  carriage  will  go  several  scores  of 
miles  in  safety  after  the  application 
of  oil  in  the  proper  places.  But  Vv^e 
become  morbid  on  this  subject.  I 
am  inclined  to  ascribe  this  unhealthy 
state  of  our  minds  in  regard  to  wheels 
to  the  remark  of  the  man  who  started 
us  off  from  Catskill.     He  said  : 

"Now,  you  ladies  'd  better  look 
out  and  hev  your  carriage  oiled  every 
night.  It  's  new,  and  new  spindles 
need  to  be  looked  after  plaguey 
sharp.  When  you  put  up  at  night, 
you  tell  'em  to  clean  off  the  spindles 
'n'  to  put  a  drop  of  oil  on.  Not  only 
tell  'em,  but  see  'em  do  it." 

This   was   not    reassuring  to  two 


4       A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

women  who  had  never  before  known 
that  a  buggy  had  spindles,  or  that 
new  spindles  were  more  in  need  of 
looking  after  than  old  ones.  Also  it 
was  depressing  to  have  it  suggested 
that  hostlers  and  stablemen  generally 
needed  to  be  watched.  Fortunately 
our  courage  rose  as  difficulties  began 
to  appear.  In  consequence  of  this 
remark  of  the  livery  proprietor,  we 
were  not  out  of  Catskill  village  be- 
fore we  bought  our  box  of  axle  grease 
and  our  wrench.  Then  we  had  a 
comforting  sense  of  power,  a  certain 
feeling  of  reserved  force. 

We  drove  on  to  the  ferry,  were 
taken  across,  and  our  journey  had 
really  begun.  We  were  homeward 
bound  to  the  southeastern  part  of 
Massachusetts,  putting  in  execution 
a  long-cherished  plan  of  going  thus 
leisurely  down  the  State.  Perhaps 
we  were  daring  in  that  we  should 
thus  come  upon  the  Berkshire  Hills 


At  the  Start.  5 

with  eyes  so  fresh  from  the  mightier 
Catskill  Mountains ;  but  it  was  a 
daring  that  promised  to  be  full  of 
pleasure. 

It  was  more  than  warm,  it  was 
scorchingly  hot,  when  we  went  on 
the  ferry-boat  to  cross  the  riven 
Even  the  broad  surface  of  the  water 
was  unstirred  by  any  breeze,  and  the 
sun  poured  light  and  heat  out  of  a 
pale  blue,  smiting  sky,  wherein  was 
no  fleck  of  a  cloud.  One  man,  lean- 
ing, in  his  shirt  sleeves,  against  a 
post  of  the  boat,  looked  at  us  some 
time  in  silence,  then  he  said  that  he 
hoped  we  were  not  going  far,  for  the 
chances  were  that  the  horse  would 
get  sunstruck.  This  remark  imme- 
diately made  us  feel  cruel.  He  went 
on  to  tell  us  in  a  deprecating  way 
that  women  most  always  were  hard 
on  a  horse  ;  he  did  not  know  why ; 
he  supposed  it  miight  be  because 
they    did    n't    know    much    about 


6       A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

horses.  For  his  part,  even  if  a  wo- 
man was  well-meaning,  he  'd  rather 
let  the  Devil  have  a  horse  of  his  than 
a  woman. 

We  kept  silence,  though  our  hearts 
burned  with  anger.  We  saw  that 
our  steed  was  sweating  slightly,  al- 
though it  had  not  yet  travelled  at  all. 
But  then  we,  who  pretended  to  sit 
at  our  ease  in  a  shaded  carriage,  were 
perspiring  freely. 

"  I  don't  mean  no  offence,"  said 
the  man  after  a  short  time,  during 
which  he  looked  intently  at  the  ani- 
mal. He  lifted  himself  heavily  from 
his  post  and  went  and  opened  the 
horse's  mouth,  carefully  examining 
the  teeth.  We  sat  helpless  and  let 
him  do  it.  He  announced  that  we 
had  rather  of  a  good  beast,  but  we  'd 
better  put  a  wet  sponge  on  the  top 
of  his  head  if  we  were  going  any 
distance.  A  wet  sponge  might  save 
his  life.     He  was  all  right  now,  but 


At  the  Start,  7 

this  weather  was  enough  to  kill  a 
salamander. 

With  this,  the  man  lounged  for- 
ward, and  we  could  only  see  him 
from  a  distance. 

The  wet  sponge  sounded  reasona- 
ble to  us.  We  could  hardly  wait 
until  we  came  to  a  place  where  we 
could  follow  this  advice.  We  said 
that  this  man,  though  so  very  disa- 
greealile,  doubtless  knew  about 
horses,  and  this  was  a  mysterious 
knowledge  that  commanded  our 
deepest   respect. 

Claverack  is  a  quiet  place  that  lies 
diagonally  opposite  Catskill,  a  little 
to  the  north.  It  is  extremely  quiet. 
It  has  a  boarding-school — the  Hud- 
son River  Institute — but  when  we 
passed  through  the  village,  all  the 
pupils  must  have  been  housed,  for 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  of  any  move- 
ment, and  no  sound  was  to  be  heard. 
No  one  was  in  the  road,  but  then  it 


8       A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

was  natural  that  those  who  had  a 
shelter  from  the  sun  would  be  with- 
in that  shelter.  The  trees  hung  per- 
fectly still  everywhere,  and  the  sun 
shone.  It  was  that  kind  of  weather 
when  every  one  says,  "  There  must 
be  a  change  soon,"  and  when  an 
earthquake  or  a  tornado  bursting 
out  of  the  stillness  would  surprise 
no  one.  Our  horse  had  walked  every 
yard  of  the  way  since  leaving  the 
river,  but  there  was  a  white  ''lather" 
wherever  the  harness  touched. 

In  the  extremely  unpretentious 
store  in  Claverack  there  were  no 
sponges.  The  clerk  advised  us  to 
go  to  Hudson  if  we  wanted  sponges. 
He  said  they  did  not  keep  much  of 
a  stock,  because  everybody  went  to 
Hudson.  It  was  plain  enough  to  be 
seen  that  everybody  would  have  to 
go  to  that  city,  or  to  some  other,  if 
they  wanted  any  thing. 

We  had  hoped  to  reach  Pittsfield 


At  the  Start.  9 

on  the  first  day  out,  intending  to 
spend  a  day  or  two  there,  but  this 
hope  was  relinquished  before  we  had 
been  two  hours  on  the  journey.  It 
was  impossible  to  ask  a  horse  to  go 
out  of  a  foot-pace.  At  every  water- 
ing trough  or  spring  we  let  him 
drink.  I  think  he  soon  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  man  on  the  ferry 
had  slandered  women.  Sometimes, 
climbing  a  hill,  we  looked  back  and 
saw  the  Catskills  behind,  solemn, 
glorious,  beneath  the  bright  sun. 
They  seemed  to  ask  us  if  we  had 
the  presumption  to  think  that  we 
could  enjoy  other  scenery,  remem- 
bering them. 

If  one  has  travelled  among  these 
secluded  villages  of  Columbia  Coun- 
ty, he  will  know  that  some  are  very 
secluded  indeed,  and  that  hotels  are 
not  plentiful.  Claverack  Township 
has  many  hamlets,  and  we  hardly 
knew  whether  we  were  still  in  that 


lo     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

town  or  had  reached  Ghent.  Great 
heat  is  as  bewildering  in  its  way  as 
great  cold.  At  last  v/e  found  that 
we  had  strayed  off  the  best  road,  had 
passed  Ghent,  and  were  in  the  out- 
skirts of  Chatham.  It  did  not  mat- 
ter much,  however,  if  we  could  find 
a  place  to  put  up.  We  met  a  few 
pigs  and  cows  straying  Hstlessly 
along  the  roadside.  Even  pigs  had 
none  of  their  customary  mischievous 
alertness  in  their  appearance.  They 
also  were  *'  under  the  weather."  It 
was  now  high  noon,  and,  if  possible, 
more  breathless  than  ever.  We  had 
mounted  a  hill,  and  looked  down  the 
long  road  that  twisted  before  us, 
with  very  little  shelter  from  trees, 
and  no  house  in  sight.  If  there  had 
been  strength  left  in  us  for  views,  we 
should  have  been  happier,  for  the 
country  everywhere  was  inexpres- 
sibly lovely.  Hill  and  dale  stretched 
into  hill  and  dale,  and  all  were  green 


At  the  Start,  1 1 

with  the  summer  verdure,  as  yet  un- 
sullied. The  clusters  of  houses  here 
and  there  gave  the  inhabited  look 
which  is  so  pleasant.  We  stopped 
the  horse  under  a  sprawling  oak  tree, 
and  looked  about  us,  trying  to  fancy 
that  we  felt  a  breeze  from  some- 
where. Instead,  however,  the  heat 
seemed  to  rise  from  the  hot  earth  as 
well  as  to  come  from  the  unpitying 
sky.  We  began  to  have  a  sense  of 
being  stranded  in  an  unknown  and 
unoccupied  country.  True,  there 
were  houses  in  sight,  but  they  were 
beyond  us.  We  had  not  met  a  per- 
son since  we  entered  this  road.  Pigs 
and  cows  suggested  that  they  had 
owners,  but  where  were  they  ? 

We  had  almost  decided  to  give  up 
looking  for  a  shelter  for  the  present, 
and  to  take  out  the  horse  and  let  us 
all  eat.  This  kind  of  an  experience 
was  not  in  our  intention  when  we 
started.     One  does   not   expect   to 


12     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

feel  thus  desolate  in  a  settled  and 
civilized  country  ;  but  we  may  have 
been  morbid. 

We  had  left  the  carriage  and 
were  taking  a  comprehensive  survey 
around  the  horizon.  Now  we  saw 
what  decided  us  to  go  on  still  farther 
in  search  of  a  farm-house,  for  it  was 
not  to  be  expected  that  we  should 
find  an  inn  of  any  kind.  In  the 
northv/est,  low  down,  was  the  first 
appearance  of  a  cloud — a  bank  of  a 
dense  blue  color  that  seemed  perfect- 
ly still,  as  if  it  would  carry  the  de- 
ceptive hope  that  it  would  never  rise 
and  would  always  be  innocent  as 
now.  But  even  in  the  five  minutes 
that  we  spent  looking  at  it  it  slowly 
v/idened,  keeping  its  solid  look.  But 
there  was  no  wind  yet.  That  bank 
looked  as  if  it  were  capable  of  a  good 
many  things  when  it  should  begin  to 
demonstrate. 

We  made  ready  to  climb  despond- 


At  the  Start,  1 3 

ently  into  the  buggy  ;  we  pulled  up 
the  horse's  head  from  the  eating  of 
grass.  At  the  same  moment  I  was 
aware  of  a  slight  rustle  across  the 
road,  and  a  pug  dog  crossed  delib- 
erately in  the  dust,  and  snuffed  in- 
quiringly about  our  skirts.  He  was 
of  that  degree  of  beautiful  ugliness 
which  was  so  fashionable  a  short 
time  ago,  and  which  still  is  not  en- 
tirely "  gone  out."  This  creature, 
with  its  turned-up  nose,  and  melan- 
choly, protruding  eyes,  did  not  en- 
tirely disdain  us.  After  a  moment's 
investigation,  he  sat  down  on  his 
haunches  and  gave  himself  up  entire- 
ly to  panting  and  snapping  at  flies. 
But  why  should  a  pug  dog,  which 
has  no  temptation  to  hunt,  be  wan- 
dering about  in  this  way  ?  Had  he 
not  a  companion  ?  Evidently  he 
had,  for  the  tall  bushes  parted  again, 
and  a  human  being  appeared.  I  wish 
I  could  say  that  this  person  was  an 


14     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

artist  with  portfolio  under  arm,  a 
picturesque  beard,  and  a  general 
readiness  to  fall  in  love.  But  it  was 
a  feminine  being  who  cam.e  in  sight 
and  who  stepped  over  the  road,  as 
her  pug  had  done,  and  who  was 
panting  nearly  as  much.  A  girl  in  a 
brown  linen  short  dress,  heavy  boots, 
and  a  broad  hat.  She  had  a  newly 
cut  maple  staff  in  her  hand,  and  was 
naturally  absorbed  in  trying  to  live 
in  this  heat,  and  could  be  very  little 
interested  in  any  thing  while  the 
thermometer  continued  in  its  present 
state. 

She  looked  at  us,  sat  down  on  a 
stone  in  the  shade,  took  off  her  hat, 
and  began  to  fan  hers'elf.  We  looked 
at  her,  and  did  not  get  into  the  car- 
riage. 

Her  hair  was  cut  short  and  her 
face  was  tanned  so  dark  that  but  for 
her  features  she  hardly  seemed  to 
belong  to  the  white  race. 


At  the  Start.  1 5 

Finally  I  said :  "  I  think  we  are 
lost." 

She  laughed  a  little,  and  replied  : 
''And  I  know  that  I  am  lost." 

After  this  there  was  a  silence, 
which  was  broken  by  the  girl,  who 
remarked  that  she  supposed  that  this 
road  must  lead  somewhere.  To  this 
my  friend  responded  that  she  doubt- 
ed that,  for  we  had  been  following  it 
for  two  hours,  and  had  not  come  to 
anywhere. 

"  It  's  a  road,  anyway,"  said  the 
girl,  "  and  I  am  thankful  for  that,  for 
I  've  been  in  the  fields  and  pastures 
since  morning.  They  say  it  's  easy 
to  get  lost  about  here,  but  I  'm  used 
to  wandering,  and  never  lost  my  way 
before.  I  'm  about  played  out  " — 
she  used  this  phrase  as  calmly  as  if 
she  were  a  boy — "  and  I  must  beg 
you  to  let  me  crowd  in  with  you. 
It  *s  going  to  be  a  bully  old  tempest, 
too,  when  that  cloud  gets  up,"  point- 


1 6     A  Vacation  ifi  a  Buggy, 

ing  a  brown  hand  toward  the  west. 
''  I  think  we  'd  better  be  pegging. 
Lion  's  about  ready  to  give  up  the 
ghost,  too,  are  n't  you  Lion  ?  "  to  the 
dog,  who  gave  one  languid  flirt  of  his 
curled  tail  in  response. 

The  girl,  who,  we  concluded,  was 
about  fourteen,  and  who  spoke  as  if 
she  were  educated,  though  fond  of 
slang,  now  asked  if  we  had  a  bottle 
of  milk  in  the  carriage,  for  Lion 
would  like  a  little.  But  we  had  no 
milk,  so  Lion  had  none. 

We  knew  it  would  be  wise  to  be 
''pegging,"  so  we  all  crowded  into 
the  buggy,  the  girl  crouching  down 
in  front  and  holding  the  pug  in  her 
arms.  We  asked  if  she  had  any  ad- 
vice to  give  as  to  direction,  which  • 
was  a  foolish  question,  for  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  keep  on.  She 
expressed  her  belief  that,  in  time,  we 
should  find  a  farm-house,  but  pre- 
viously  we   should   probably  get   a 


At  the  Start.  1 7 

drenching,  to  say  nothing  of  being 
frightened  half  to  death  by  the  tem- 
pest. 

'^  It  '11  be  a  regular  ripper,"  she 
said.  "  After  such  a  spell  as  this 
it  always  is.  And  you  can't  stop 
under  any  trees,  for  you  know  you 
are  about  sure  to  get  struck  if 
you  do.  And  Lion  is  afraid  of 
thunder." 


II. 

A  WASHED   WORLD. 

It  turned  out  that  the  pug  dog 
was  not  the  only  person  in  our  buggy 
who  was  afraid  of  thunder.  As  we 
went  down  the  hill,  after  taking  in 
the  dog  and  the  "  dog's  lady,"  we  all 
kept  twisting  our  necks  to  see,  if  we 
could,  how  fast  the  cloud  was  rising. 
But  very  soon  we  were  so  far  down 
that  we  could  see  nothing  in  the  west, 
and  would  not  have  known  that  there 
was  a  cloud  therefor  any  appearance 
in  the  heavens  now  visible  to  us,  for 
the  sun  shone,  and  the  sky  was  blue, 
and  the  heat  continued.  No  house, 
and  no  sign  of  human  beings.  In  a 
pasture  there  was  an  awning  of 
boards   put  upon  four  posts,  appar- 


A  Washed  World.  19 

ently  for  the  shelter  of  the  horses 
feeding  there.  We  hesitated,  and 
discussed  whether  we  should  stop 
here,  and  finally  decided  that  the 
horses  might  not  like  the  intrusion. 
We  might  get  kicked,  even  if  we 
escaped  the  lightning. 

The  road  was  so  rough  and  in 
places  so  steep  that  the  slowest  pace 
was  all  we  could  venture  upon, 
which,  in  part,  accounts  for  our  long 
absence  from  any  village. 

All  at  once,  while  the  sun  was  still 
as  bright  as  ever,  we  heard  the  first 
low  sound  of  thunder.  At  the  same 
moment  the  pug  bristled  up  the  hairs 
along  its  backbone  and  growled  with 
the  thunder. 

*'  You  see  Lion  ? "  said  the  girl, 
with  animation.  "  It  's  going  to  be 
a  banger,  or  he  never  'd  do  that. 
Can't  you  drive  a  bit  faster?  " 

No,  we  could  not,  for  the  road  was 
inclined  like  the  roof  of  a  house,  and 


20     A  Vacation  hi  a  Buggy. 

was  covered  with  loose  stones.  What- 
ever  happened,  we  could  not  at  this 
early  stage  of  our  journey  risk  break- 
ing the  horse's  legs. 

The  girl  stood  up  on  the  tips  of 
her  toes,  and,  cHnging  to  the  sides, 
essayed  to  look  back  over  the  buggy- 
top. 

"  My  eye  !  "  she  cried  out,  "  you  'd 
better  beheve  it  's  coming !  It  *s  all 
green  and  black,  and  in  two  minutes 
the  sun  *11  be  in  it.  There  comes  the 
wind  ;  the  trees  way  off  there  are 
beginning  to  thrash  about.  Good- 
ness me !  If  I  don't  wish  I  had  n't 
started  out  this  morning  !  " 

Yes,  surely  the  wind  was  coming ; 
we  heard  it  roaring  behind  there 
among  the  trees  and  hills.  Forgetting 
the  stones  and  the  steepness,  I 
slapped  the  lines  on  the  horse's  back, 
at  the  same  instant  the  pug,  who  had 
been  greatly  inconvenienced  by  his 
mistress  rising  as  she  had  done,  rolled 


A  Washed  World,  21 

out  of  the  carriage.  Of  course  the 
horse  had  to  be  stopped.  The  girl 
scrambled  out,  caught  up  her  treas- 
ure, and  scrambled  in.  Now  there 
was  no  more  delay  in  the  movement 
of  the  cloud.  The  day  grew  dark, 
the  whole  heavens  were  obscured,  the 
wind  burst  on  us,  the  thunder  crashed, 
the  lightning  blinded.  Lion  began 
to  bark  as  fast  and  as  loud  as  his 
strength  would  permit.  The  horse 
took  the  control  of  himself  into  his 
own  direction,  and  began  to  trot  and 
gallop  and  flounder  on  as  best  he 
might,  the  carriage  wobbling  and 
bouncing  along  behind  him.  Two 
long  minutes  of  this,  and  then  the 
rain  began  to  fall,  the  first  drops 
sounding  large  and  heavy  on  the 
leather  above  our  heads.  After  that 
the  water  came  in  streams.  Above 
the  rain  and  the  wind  and  the  thun- 
der, I  heard  the  girl's  voice  crying 
shrilly  : 


2  2     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

"  I  declare,  I  don't  believe  we  can 
tell  in  such  a  row  as  this  whether  we 
are  struck  or  not." 

I,  for  one,  very  soon  knew  that  I 
was  wet.  The  water  slanted  in  at  the 
back  where  the  curtain  was  rolled  up, 
and  in  one  minute  I  was  soaked  and 
dripping,  and  so  were  we  all.  Lion 
kept  up  his  barking,  and  seemed 
furious  with  rage  rather  than  fright. 
His  round,  fat  body  was  so  wet  it 
looked  as  if  it  had  been  dipped  in  a 
tub.  For  a  moment,  well  as  I  like 
dogs,  I  was  tempted  to  throttle  him, 
for  his  noise  seemed  the  one  sound 
that  was  positively  unendurable. 
The  lightning  flashed  constantly,  and 
the  concussions  of  thunder  were 
deafening. 

Perhaps  we  had  not  been  in  this 
confusion  more  than  five  minutes 
before,  turning  a  corner  in  the  road, 
we  saw  close  to  us  a  large  house  with 
a  wide  stoop  in  front,  and  on  this 


A  Washed  World,  23 

stoop,  sheltered  from  the  rain,  stood 
a  man  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  his  brown 
over-alls  tucked  into  rubber-boots. 
The  place  and  the  man  seemed  part 
of  a  blurred  picture  in  this  storm. 
Seeing  us,  he  stepped  forward  as  far 
as  he  could,  waved  his  arms  franti- 
cally round  towards  the  corner  of  the 
house,  and  shouted  what  we  guessed 
in  the  hurly-burly  to  be  these  words: 
"  Drive  right  round  into  the  barn  !" 
At  any  rate  we  drove  in  at  the 
open  gate,  and  up  a  lane,  at  the  end 
of  which  we  found  a  barn  with  its 
big  doors  open  at  both  ends,  the 
wind  sweeping  through  it  madly. 

Once  in  this  shelter,  we  were  silent 
for  a  moment,  listening  to  the  noise 
abroad.  Even  the  dog  stopped  bark- 
ing, and  jumped  down  to  the  floor 
to  shake  himself.  We  all  followed 
Lion's  example  so  far  as  the  alight- 
ing, but  our  rehabilitation  would  be 
more  than  a  m.atter  of  shaking. 


24     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

Instead  of  being  grateful,  we 
naturally  began  to  grumble  that  we 
could  not  have  reached  here  just  two 
or  three  minutes  sooner. 

"They'll  have  to  keep  us  over 
night,  out  of  common  humanity," 
said  my  friend,  "  and  if  they  don't 
give  us  dry  clothes  very  soon,  they 
v/ill  be  obliged  also  to  nurse  us 
through  fevers." 

"  How  provoking  of  them  not  to 
live  a  little  further  up  the  hill,"  ex- 
claimed the  girl,  whose  linen  dress 
clung  to  her  and  who  was  beginning 
to  shiver  in  the  wind  that  sucked 
through  the  barn. 

It  was  not  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
before  the  sun  was  shining  as  hotly 
as  ever.  But  it  had  been  a  bad  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  for  us.  As  soon  as 
the  drops  began  to  fall  less  heavily, 
a  figure  with  a  waterproof  huddled 
about  it  appeared  at  one  of  the  wide 
doors.   It  was  a  girl  not  far  from  the 


A  Washed  World,  25 

age  of  our  companion.  She  informed 
us  that  ma  had  sent  her  out  to  tell 
us  to  come  right  in,  for  we  must  be 
soaked  to  the  skin.  We  could  put 
on  some  of  their  clothes  while  ours 
were  drying,  and  pa  would  put  out 
the  horse. 

I  am  convinced  that  it  is  only 
heroines  who  look  picturesque  in 
garments  furnished  them  in  such 
predicaments  as  the  one  from  which 
we  were  suffering  at  this  time.  In 
point  of  fact,  we  were  but  travesties 
of  the  civilized  woman  when  we 
appeared  on  the  stoop,  after  having 
availed  ourselves  of  the  kindness  of 
the  two  women  who  lived  here,  each 
of  whom  was  of  great  weight.  But 
we  were  thankful.  We  savv^  our  own 
sodden  clothes  swinging  on  a  line, 
and  drying  rapidly.  The  tempest 
had  not  cleared  the  air  in  the  least, 
but  our  friends  predicted  a  clearer 
dav  to-morrow. 


26     A  Vacation  hi  a  Buggy, 

We  sat  nearly  all  the  afternoon  on 
the  piazza,  and  watched  the  clouds 
changing  over  the  hills  opposite. 
Occasionally  it  rained,  but  not  so 
hard  as  when  we  were  driving  down 
the  road.  We  had  been  promised 
lodging  for  the  night,  if  we  would 
take  "jest  what  they  had."  We 
were  only  too  grateful  to  take  jest 
what  they  had.  The  farmer  promised 
to  carry  home  the  waif  we  had 
brought  with  us  as  soon  as  his  chores 
were  done  after  supper. 

"  In  the  meantime,"  said  the  girl, 
with  a  grin  of  something  like  amuse- 
ment at  the  misery  she  was  causing, 
— "  in  the  meantime,  won't  my  Aunt 
Eunice  be  in  a  wax  about  me !  I 
only  hope  she  won't  take  a  notion 
to  stop  my  going  out  by  myself." 

It  transpired  that  she  came  out 
from  New  York  City  early  every 
spring  and  stayed  until  late  autumn 
with  an  aunt    who    lived    six    miles 


A  Washed  World.  27 

away.  She  said  she  used  to  be 
sickly,  but  she  considered  herself 
very  far  from  being  an  invalid  at 
present. 

After  supper,  which  was  eaten  in 
an  immense  kitchen  that  ran  the 
whole  length  of  the  rear  of  the  house, 
we  all  wandered  to  the  barn  again. 
Our  host  announced  that  he  con- 
sidered the  weather  settled  now. 
The  sky  was  washed  until  the  hot 
look  was  gone  from  it ;  the  sun  was 
setting,  and  there  was  that  faint, 
apple-green  tint  in  the  horizon  which 
has  such  a  cool  aspect. 

The  man  was  '^  hitching  up  "  to  a 
small,  old-fashioned  open  wagon  to 
take  home  the  girl,  when  a  gray  horse 
dashed  into  the  yard,  drawing  a  light 
trotting  cart,  from  which  descended 
a  very  young  man  wearing  a  high, 
pearl-gray  derby  hat  and  wide  trou- 
sers, and  possessing  the  general  ap- 
pearance of  bestowing  a  great  deal  of 


28     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

time  on  his  toilet,  and  of  being  ex- 
tremely well  satisfied  with  the  gen- 
eral effect  of  his  work. 

^'  I  'm  looking  after  my  sister,"  he 
began.  ''  You  see,  I  came  up  this 
afternoon,  and  there  *s  been  no  end 
of  a  row  about  her,  and  I — " 

"You'd  better  advertise,  Jim," 
said  our  waif,  stepping  from  behind 
a  farm-cart,  holding  the  pug  in  her 
arms. 

She  had  on  a  dress  which  trailed  a 
good  deal,  and  her  movements  v/ere 
somewhat  impeded.  She  wore  no 
hat,  and  her  appearance  was  greatly 
in  contrast  to  that  of  her  relative. 

"  By  Jove  !  "  said  the  young  man. 
"  So  there  you  are,  sis.  Jump  in  and 
we  '11  spin  back.  But  v/here  in 
thunder  did  you  get  such  a  rig  as 
that ! " 

''  Now,  James,"  said  sis,  "  you  just 
try  to  make  your  behavior  in  ac- 
cordance with  your  pantaloons,  and 


A  Washed  World.  29 

you  '11  be  too  sweet  for  any  thing. 
I  '11  go  In  and  see  if  my  own  frock  is 
dry." 

When  the  girl  came  out  in  her 
own  clothes,  she  walked  to  us  and 
thanked  us  warmly ;  she  took  leave 
of  us  all  with  a  winning  grace  that 
somewhat  surprised  us.  She  put 
Lion  carefully  on  the  seat  first,  and 
then  sprang  in  after  him.  When 
they  had  reached  the  turn  in  the 
road,  she  looked  back  and  waved 
her  big  hat  at  us.  I  had  not  ex- 
pected to  feel  a  slight  flatness  after 
her  departure,  but  such  was  the  case. 
There  had  been  a  sparkle  in  her 
which  now  made  us  aware  that  the 
effervescence  was  gone. 

We  were  glad  to  go  to  bed  early, 
and  did  not  care  for  the  sombre 
bareness  of  our  room,  or  even  for 
the  buzzing  of  a  few  mosquitoes 
about  us. 

The  farmer's  prophecy  had  been 


30     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

correct.  The  next  day  was  a  per- 
fect day  for  travel  such  as  ours :  the 
roads  were  no  longer  dusty,  the  air 
was  almost  crisp  when  we  made  our 
early  start.  The  horse  was  brisk  and 
we  were  brisk  ourselves.  Every  hill 
had  for  us  to-day  an  attraction  a  hun- 
dred times  greater  than  it  had  yester- 
day. Again  we  changed  our  minds, 
and  said  we  did  not  care  if  we  did 
not  reach  Pittsfield  until  the  mor- 
row. 

I  write  this  in  a  small  house  not 
far  from  the  Shaker  village  in  Leb- 
anon. Not  two  miles  away  is  the 
fashion  that  flits  yearly  to  New  Leb- 
anon Springs.  We  see  the  glitter- 
ing carriages  with  their  languid  oc- 
cupants going  by  toward  the  Shaker 
settlement.  It  seems  to  be  a  source 
of  great  interest  for  the  society  belle 
to  visit  these  drab  houses  and  see 
the  placid-faced  women  here,  who 
look  as  if  they  had  never  had  a  past, 


A  Washed  World,  31 

and  only  knew  a  mild  peace  in  the 
present,  without  any  expectations 
for  the  future.  Is  it  the  contrast 
that  interests  the  belle  ?  In  some 
moods  she  must  almost  envy  this 
life,  which  yet  is  not  life. 

We  fastened  our  horse  in  front  of 
one  of  the  big  barns,  and  wandered 
about  over  its  vast  floor,  inhaling  its 
pleasant  odors.  We  v/ent  into  one 
of  the  houses,  and  such  is  the  calm- 
ness, and  the  attraction  of  spotless 
cleanliness,  that  for  a  moment  we 
could  almost  understand  what  holds 
the  community  together.  But  it  is 
fast  dwindling.  I  hear  there  are  not 
twoscore  in  all  here  now.  Perhaps 
these  people  are  pining  for  the 
strong,  penetrating  enthusiasm  of 
another  Mother  Ann.  She  worked 
miracles,  they  say ;  she  scoffed  at 
matrimony  ;  she  told  them,  ''  I  am 
Ann,  the  Word,"  and  they  believed 
her. 


32     A  Vacatio7i  hi  a  Buggy, 

A  grave,  benignant-looking  man 
instructed  us  in  some  things  about 
the  sect,  and  we  were  ashamed  to  be 
found  so  ignorant.  I  suppose  every- 
body, save  ourselves,  knows  all  about 
the  government  by  the  elders,  and 
how  a  certain  four  are  called  the 
"  Holy  Lead,"  and  must  remain  close 
in  the  Lebanon  Church.  This  Shaker 
man  gave  us  his  information  as  if  he 
were  telling  what  any  one  of  sense 
who  took  the  trouble  to  look  into 
the  subject  would  readily  believe. 
That  night  we  dreamed  of  tranquil 
Shaker  faces  ;  and  fancied  that  hence- 
forth drab  should  be  our  only  wear. 


III. 

PONTOOSUC— FISHING     FOR    A     BOY. 

A  SERVANT  assiduously  assisted 
us  to  alight  ;  another  took  our 
satchels  ;  and  a  third  jumped  into 
the  buggy  and  whirled  it  and  the 
horse  away  into  unknown  regions. 
I  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  say  to 
the  person  who  was  conducting  us 
that  I  wished  the  horse  to  be  well 
rubbed  down  and  to  have  four  quarts 
of  oats.  The  man  waved  his  hand, 
and,  in  an  indulgent  tone,  assured 
me  that  '*  that  would  be  all  right." 

From  his  manner  I  knew  that  his 
mind  had  never  descended  to  the 
depths  necessary  for  him  to  be  aware 
that  wheels  needed  oiling,  so  I  con- 
soled myself  by  resolving  that  if  we 


34     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

ever  got  away  from  here,  I  would 
immediately,  in  some  secluded  spot, 
make  my  first  use  of  the  monkey- 
wrench  and  the  box  of  axle-grease. 
I  am  compelled  to  record  that  I  had 
the  weakness  to  experience  a  sense  of 
shame  as  I  wondered  what  the  gen- 
tlemen, perhaps  I  should  say  the 
lords,  of  the  stable  would  think 
of  women  who  were  so  lost  to  wo- 
man's true  position  in  society  as  to 
carry  about  a  wrench  and  a  box  of 
axle-grease.  I  blushed  as  I  felt  that 
I  could  never  look  them  (I  mean 
these  gentlemen)  in  the  face.  I  felt 
something  of  that  sensation  which 
comes  to  me  when  I  timidly  address, 
over  the  counter,  a  bedecked,  aggres- 
sive "  saleslady." 

It  was  Columbia  Hall  to  which  we 
had  come  for  rest  and  refreshment. 
We  were  now  experiencing  the  con- 
trast between  the  obscure  house  and 
the  plain  ways  of  the  people  we  had 


Pontoosuc.  35 

just  left,  and  this  resort,  where  ele- 
gant  women  and  still  more  elegant 
men  languidly  talk  and  walk  and  try 
to  kill  time.  Why  do  they  com.e  out 
into  the  nobility  and  the  simplicity 
of  such  scenes  ?  Are  not  heat,  and 
gas,  and  hot-house  flowers  more  ap- 
propriate for  inane  flirtations  ?  Sit- 
ting in  a  nook  of  the  piazza,  we 
watched  the  people  sauntering  about 
us.  The  season  can  hardly  be  said 
to  begin  before  July,  but  the  heat 
has  driven  people  early  from  the 
cities  this  year. 

My  first  sensation  was  a  sort  of  in- 
dignation that  those  who  could  not 
appreciate  Nature  in  such  garb  as 
she  wears  here,  should  have  the  priv- 
ilege, without  the  power  of  know- 
ing her.  But  as  I  watched,  I  saw  re- 
fined and  sensitive  faces  belonging 
to  some  of  the  women,  who  moved 
so  gracefully  up  and  down  the  long 
piazzas;  I    saw   girls   with   whom  I 


2,6     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

should  say  it  were  an  easy  matter 
to  fall  in  love,  and  some  men  who 
were,  perhaps,  worthy  to  fall  in  love. 
Can  I  say  more  ?  I  asked  myself 
seriously  if,  even  with  all  the  inan- 
ity, the  frippery,  and  the  shallow- 
ness of  the  average  women  and  men 
of  the  world,  there  may  not  be  found 
as  much  real  appreciation  of  the 
scenes  they  visit,  as  among  the  rus- 
tics who  dwell  all  the  year  in  the 
midst  of  hills.  It  may  be,  after  all, 
that  one  can  only  decide  that  it  is  the 
birthright  of  some,  be  they  gentle  or 
simple,  to  have  eyes  to  see  and  a 
heart  to  love  what  is  beautiful. 

Such  eyes  and  such  a  heart  must 
feast  and  be  happy  in  such  a  place  as 
this.  The  glance  cannot  rest  on  a 
point  that  is  not  charming — not  grand 
and  awe-inspiring,  but  charming.  The 
gaze  is  refreshed  and  pleased.  There 
is  no  reaction,  such  as  comes  from 
contemplating    towering  mountains 


Pontoosuc,  37 

and  scenes  of  grandeur.  The  sum- 
mar  days  here  mJght  softly  glide  into 
each  other  until  one  believed  that  the 
winter  would  never  come. 

The  thermal  springs  of  Lebanon 
are  famous  as  possessing  curative 
properties  for  the  skin  and  the  liv- 
er. But,  as  happens  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  majority  of  springs  which  have 
become  popular,  the  medicinal  pow- 
ers are  not  much  thought  of,  save 
by  a  few  yellow,  middle-aged  people 
whose  occupation  it  is  to  study  their 
symptoms.  Most  persons  whom  we 
saw  looked  happily  unconscious  of 
livers.  But  you  cannot  expect  a 
lovely  young  girl  to  be  unaware  that 
she  has  a  skin — if  it  be  in  danger  of 
tanning. 

**  I  do  believe  there  's  something 
in  these  waters,  after  all,"  said  a 
magnificent  blonde,  stopping  within 
our  hearing,  and  speaking  to  an  ex- 
tremely well-got-up  young  man,  who 


38     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

was  her  companion.  '*  Because,  don't 
you  know,  my  complexion  has  im- 
proved so  that  even  papa  noticed  it 
to-day." 

The  gentleman  made  some  inar- 
ticulate, prefatory  murmur,  and 
then  I  heard  the  original  remark 
about  the  folly  of  painting  the  Hly. 
But  it  is  a  talent  to  know  how  to 
quote  correctly. 

**  Pshaw  ! "  said  the  girl,  with  a 
laugh,  *'  you  need  not  have  felt 
obliged   to   say    that." 

"  It  was  inclination,  not  obliga- 
tion, which  prompted  me,"  he  re- 
sponded, and  then  the  two  walked 
away,  and  we  shall  never  know  how 
the  conversation  terminated. 

From  New  Lebanon  Springs  to 
Pittsfield  the  drive  is  one  long  de- 
light. If  you  travel  here,  do  not  ex- 
pect to  drive  rapidly.  There  is  only 
now  and  then  a  level  stretch,  over 
which  you  can  bowl  along.     Usually 


Pontoosuc.    '  39 

the  journey  from  one  town  to  an- 
other is  made  up  of  climbing  one 
hill,  stopping  on  its  top  to  look 
about,  and  to  say  to  yourself  : 
"  Ah  !  Surely  this  is  the  most 
charming  view  we  have  yet  seen  " ; 
then  of  going  carefully  down  the 
slope,  over  narrow  roads,  seeing 
farms  and  farm-houses  more  and 
more  often  as  you  get  down  into 
the  dale.  In  this  small  valley  per- 
haps a  river  or  a  brook  twists  along 
gayly,  and  there  is  a  hamlet  of  a 
dozen,  or  a  few  dozen,  houses,  with 
a  store  and  a  church,  and  often  some 
kind  of  a  tavern,  or  a  house  where 
**  they  put  folks  up." 

It  might  have  been  appropriately 
said  of  Berkshire  that  **  the  roving 
eye  still  rests  inevitably  on  her  hills, 
and  she  still  holds  up  the  skirts  of 
the  sky,"  in  whatever  direction  one 
may  look.  It  may  be  ultra-fashiona- 
ble not  to  set  foot  within  the  limits 


40     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

of  this  county  before  fall,  but  the 
summer  hath  charms  sufficient  to 
lure  many  to  spend  the  whole  sea- 
son, and  to  wait  for  the  autumn 
beauty  of  the  woods,  for  in  the  time 
of  that  beauty  it  is  strictly  proper  to 
be  found  here. 

We  approached  Pittsfield  about  an 
hour  before  sunset,  having  left  Colum- 
bia Hall  in  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon. The  town  struck  us  as  being 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  we  have 
seen.  Indeed,  how  can  it  be  other- 
wise, in  the  midst  of  such  surround- 
ings ? 

When  the  Indians  held  this  region 
round  about  they  called  it  Pontoo- 
suc,  but  a  dozen  years  after  its  set- 
tlement in  1752  the  place  was  named 
for  William  Pitt.  Unless  the  Indian 
name  is  peculiarly  jaw-breaking,  I 
am  always  sorry  it  has  been  changed. 
There  is  little  enough  of  antiquity 
in  this  country,  and  it  seems  to  me 


PontoosMc,  41 

that  we  can  hardly  afford  to  rehn- 
quish  the  words  that  hint  at  years 
running  back  to  we  knov/  not  where. 

From  the  windows  of  our  room  in 
the  hotel  we  can  see  gUmpses  of  the 
Taconic  Hills  in  the  west,  and  when 
we  walked  out  in  the  fading  red  of 
twilight,  there  in  the  east,  standing 
in  the  full  reflection  of  the  crimson 
sunset,  were  the  Hoosacs. 

We  wandered  about  until  it  was 
too  dark  to  see  aught  save  the  lighted 
streets.  We  did  not  lose  the  sense 
that  the  town  immediately  gives  one, 
that  it  stands  high,  even  though  it 
be  surrounded  by  elevations  still 
higher.  It  is  a  plateau  in  the  midst 
of  mountains,  a  lovely  place  in  re- 
gard to  air  and  scenery. 

The  next  morning  we  decided  to 
rest  the  horse,  and  so  only  drove 
him  the  short  two  miles  out  to  Lake 
Onota.  The  trouble  here  is  that  the 
number  of  bewitching  drives  in  dif- 


42     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

ferent  directions  is  so  great  as  to  be 
embarrassing.  If  you  choose  one, 
have  you  not  missed  another  still 
more  charming  ?  There  is  at  first  a 
feeling  that  you  cannot  take  in  all, 
and  the  sense  that  you  must  miss  so 
much  is  annoying.  But  soon  the 
mood  changes,  and  you  rest  simply 
grateful  that  fortune  gives  you  so 
much.  Onota  Lake  is  very  beauti- 
ful. Because  we  did  not  go  to  Pon- 
toosuc  Lake,  two  miles  to  the  north, 
we  were,  of  course,  told  that,  of  all 
things,  we  should  not  have  missed 
Pontoosuc. 

The  time  slipped  by  magically, 
and  three  hours  had  gone  before  we 
thought  of  leaving  Onota,  which  has 
shores  so  picturesque,  and  with  a  cer- 
tain v/inning  quality,  that  it  was  hard 
to  leave  it.  We  looked  from  the 
place  where  once  Ashley's  Fort 
stood,  over  the  view  spread  before 
us.     We  toiled  about  here  and  there 


Ponloosuc.  43 

on  the  shores,  having  no  guide,  and 
finding  out  for  ourselves  from  what 
points  we  could  gaze  on  the  loveliest 
scenes.  There  is  a  place  on  the 
northerly  shore  which  gives  an  out- 
look about  which  to  dream  when  one 
is  prosaically  sitting  by  one's  fireside 
at  a  distance  from  all  "  views  "  that 
are  not  contemplated  in  imagination 
alone.  Indeed,  it  is  in  such  journeys 
as  these  that  one  gathers  a  thousand 
and  one  pictures  for  that  time  of 
which  Wordsworth  speaks  : 

' '  For  oft  when  on  my  couch  I  lie, 

In  vacant  or  in  pensive  mood, 

They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye 

Which  is  the  bliss  of  solitude." 

It  is  to  some  part  of  this  lake  that 
the  story  of  the  "  White  Deer  of 
Onota  "  belongs.  At  least,  that  is 
what  a  small  guide-book  tells  us, 
with  the  air  that  every  one,  of  course, 
is  familiar  with  that  legend.  But  we 
are  of  the  uninstructed  few  who  do 


44     ^  Vacation  lit  a  Buggy. 

not  know  the  tale,  and  we  are 
ashamed  to  ask  about  it  for  fear  we 
may  be  deemed  unworthy  to  have 
seen  Onota  at  all. 

The  people  at  the  hotel  said  that 
on  no  account  must  we  leave  Pitts- 
field  without  driving  to  Berry  Pond, 
which  is  in  Hancock.  They  told  us 
tempting  stories  of  its  entrancing 
beauty  of  shores,  where  rocks  and 
green  sward  and  sandy  beaches  and 
stately  trees  reflect  themselves  in  the 
pond.  We  can  imagine  it  all,  and 
yet  we  must  deny  ourselves  some  of 
these  trips  w^hich  sound  so  beguiling. 

Just  before  we  left  Onota  we  had 
an  adventure,  at  least  we  participated 
in  an  adventure  which  primarily  be- 
longed to  a  young  man  who  had 
been  rowing  about  in  a  miserable  lit- 
tle boat  all  the  time  we  were  there. 
Near  where  we  hitched  the  horse,  v/e 
had  noticed  a  long  fishing-pole,  with 
line  attached,  leaning  against  a  tree. 


Pontoosuc,  45 

The  young  man,  who  was  very  young, 
in  fact,  a  boy,  was  very  much  occu- 
pied in  watching  us  what  time  he 
was  not  bailing  his  boat,  which  ap- 
peared to  leak  voluminously.  Some- 
times he  fished  a  little. 

By  the  time  we  had  reached  our 
carriage,  the  boat  was  not  many  rods 
from  shore,  near  us,  and  suddenly 
something  appeared  to  give  out  still 
more,  and  the  craft  filled  with  such 
rapidity  that  in  a  moment  it  was  out 
of  sight,  leaving  the  boy  floundering 
and  spluttering  in  the  lake. 

''  Good  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  my 
friend,  *'  can't  that  boy  svWm  ?  " 

He  was  keeping  himself  afloat  in 
a  fashion,  but  it  was  directly  evident 
that  he  could  not  swim.  Neither 
could  we  ;  and  there  was  nobody 
else  within  a  hundred  miles,  to  judge 
from  the  solitude  of  the  place.  This 
was  dreadful.  How  could  we  stand 
here  and   see  him   drown  ?  and   we 


4-6     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

had  no  idea  in  which  direction  to  go 
for  help.  We  looked  wildly  and 
helplessly  about. 

*'  Try  the  fish-pole,"  he  gurglingly 
cried.  "  I  guess  you  c'n  reach  me. 
Give  a  good  fling." 

I  seized  the  fish-pole.  I  could 
**  fire  a  stone "  more  like  a  boy 
than  could  my  companion,  so  it 
seemed  fitting  that  I  should  do  this. 

I  unwound  the  line,  and  did  my 
best  to  "  give  a  good  fling."  The 
second  attempt  was  successful,  for 
the  line  dropped  within  reach  of  the 
boy's  hands,  which  clutched  it  se- 
curely, and  we  began  to  drag  him 
carefully  in.  A  fish-line  is  strong, 
fortunately,  and  our  fish  was  not 
very  heavy,  and  did  not  struggle 
any,  neither  was  the  distance  great. 
We  landed  him.  He  scrambled  up 
on  the  shore  and  shook  himself.  He 
did  not  seem  in  the  least  overcome 
by  gratitude.     He  looked  out  toward 


Pontoosuc,  47 

the  pond  and  said  ""  he  did  n't  know 
but  he  was  glad  that  blarsted  boat 
was  sunk." 

Then  he  gathered  up  the  pole  and 
line  and  remarked  ''  that  they  did  n't 
seem  to  be  hurt ;  and  he  guessed 
he  'd  put  for  home  and  git  some  dry- 
things  on."  He  started.  Just  be 
before  he  was  out  of  sight,  he  turned 
and  shouted  : 

''  I  'm  much  obleeged  to  ye  !  " 
Then  he  was  gone.  We  also  started 
and  drove  slowly  back  to  Pittsfield, 
not  feeling  in  the  least  as  I  had  fan- 
cied I  should  feel  if  I  were  ever  the 
means  of  saving  a  precious  human 
life. 


IV. 

A   GLIMPSE   OF   LENOX. 

I  AM  sorry  that  enthusiasm  has 
gone  out  of  fashion.  When  I  am  in 
close  converse  with  such  surround- 
ings as  one  finds  in  Berkshire,  I  am 
particularly  sorry  that  it  is  no  longer 
the  thing  to  allow  within  your  heart 
that  sudden  and  intoxicating  effer- 
vescence which  beauty  of  any  kind 
used  to  awaken  in  men  and  women 
who  were  in  any  degree  sensitive. 
If  you  feel  that  emotion,  do  not 
allow  it  any  expression,  lest  some 
one  shall  think  that  it  is  "  gush," 
and,  in  truth,  one  does  hate  to  be 
thought  gushing  ;  most  people  could 
better  bear  to  be  considered  stoHd. 
For  me,  however,  there  is  one  con- 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox.        49 

elusion  from  which  I  always  draw 
comfort,  and  that  is  that  no  one  ex- 
cept an  idiot  would  ever  mistake  real 
enthusiasm  of  any  kind  for  that  sen- 
timental effusiveness  which  the  love- 
liest lips  can  hardly  save  from  being 
nauseating.  You  perceive  that  I  am 
leaving  open  a  way  which  will  allow 
me  the  manifestation  of  a  little  en- 
thusiasm now  and  then.  Put  your- 
self in  my  place,  consider  that  you 
are  going  at  your  own  will,  here  and 
there,  among  some  of  the  most 
delightful  spots  in  America — not 
among  the  grandest  places,  for  you 
are  not  now  to  recall  Colorado  or 
Mexico  ;  but  did  you  ever  take  a 
journey  which  was  more  thoroughly 
charming  than  this  ?  That  the  sense 
of  awe  is  entirely  absent  is  even 
something  in  favor  of  one  who  is 
tired,  and  who  wishes  only  to  be 
pleased.  You  are  not  now  to  feel  a 
grande   passion.      You    are    to    be 


50     A  Vacation  in  a  Btiggy, 

delighted,  entertained,  captivated ; 
your  fancy  is  to  be  touched  just 
enough  to  keep  you  thoroughly  in- 
terested every  moment.  If  you  are 
English,  and  hesitate  about  express- 
ing too  much  pleasure  among  these 
scenes,  you  may  recall  that  Lord 
Coleridge  said  that  *'  England  has 
nothing  more  pleasingly  picturesque 
than  Berkshire."  This  saying  is  a 
great  comfort. 

It  was  with  thoughts  like  these  I 
have  just  written  that  we  started 
from  Pittsfield  that  morning  towards 
Lenox,  which  town  Hes  some  six 
miles  to  the  south.  You  cannot  get 
away  from  hills  here,  for  the  chain 
runs  north  and  south  along  the 
whole  country.  But  every  little 
mountain  is  different  from  all  the 
others.  We  were  so  long  among 
them  that  we  saw  every  contour, 
and  knew  how  one  differed  from  its 
neighbor.     Some  of  the  valleys  lie 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox,        5 1 

hollowed  like  a  cup  ;  some  stretch 
out  widely  and  hold  fine  farms  and 
pretty  villages ;  and  as  you  wind 
down  a  mountain  road  you  will  see 
somewhere  among  the  greenery  the 
gleam  of  a  pond.  Frederika  Bremer 
said  that  the  country  here  is  ''  in- 
spired with  wood-covered  hills  and 
the  prettiest  little  lakes."  She  must 
have  been  inspired  to  choose  that 
word,  for  it  is  singularly  happy  and 
appropriate. 

Our  horse  climbed  slowly  along 
the  road  which  leads  up  the  hill  on 
which  the  most  picturesque  part  of 
the  town  is  situated.  Certainly 
fashion  chose  well  when  it  chose  to 
come  here  and  build  villas  and  sur- 
round itself  with  luxuries.  But  hav- 
ing once  come,  how  can  it  leave  ;  or 
rather,  how  can  it  wait  until  so  late 
in  the  season  before  flying  to  a  spot 
which  to  us  birds  of  passage  seemed 
attractive  enough  to  hold  power  over 


52     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

even  a  jaded  mind  and  body  from 
June  until  November?  The  air  is 
clearly  sweet,  making  breathing  a 
conscious  delight.  But  why  should 
I  make  a  futile  attempt  to  describe 
Lenox  ?  It  is  an  earthly  loveliness, 
sitting  among  mountains,  and  wait- 
ing to  bless  those  who  may  come  to 
her.  It  was  our  misfortune  that 
having  once  come  we  could  not  stay. 
We  could  only  stand  on  that  hill- 
top and  gaze  and  gaze  for  a  happy 
half-hour.  It  is  no  wonder  that 
Fanny  Kemble  thought  that  if  she 
lay  there  after  death,  she  should 
still  wish  to  Hft  her  head  and  *'  look 
out  upon  this  glorious  scene." 

There  was  something  of  an  air  of 
furbishing  and  getting  ready  on  the 
hill ;  somebody  had  already  come, 
but  not  yet  is  the  time.  Lenox  may 
wait,  comparatively  deserted,  in  all 
her  ineffable  beauty,  until  the  glory 
of  a  later  season  is  upon  her  before 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox,        53 

her  devotees  arrive  in  power.  If 
your  gown,  via  belle,  was  not  precisely 
what  you  had  expected  it  to  be  by 
the  gray  shores  of  Newport,  it  may 
be  absolutely  ideal  up  here  among 
the  autumn  gorgeousness  of  the 
hills.  If  she  said  "  No,"  to  you  in 
Newport,  dear,  golden  youth,  and 
you  remember  her  all  the  intervening 
weeks,  she  may  say  ^'  Yes  "  to  you  in 
Lenox.  And  a  yes  said  in  Lenox 
m.ust  be  a  very  precious  thing  indeed. 
Our  day  was  wearing  on.  The 
sun  dips  early  behind  these  hills. 
We  made  a  start  to  retrace  our  steps 
down  the  hill  on  which  the  village 
stands,  going  slowly  past  villas  and 
grounds,  catching  glimpses  of  views 
here  and  there  which  flashed  upon 
our  eyes  in  the  late  splendor  of  the 
day's  sunlight.  Almost  down  this 
road  we  heard  a  sound  as  of  some- 
thing unusual  approaching  at  a  rate 
greater  than  that  generally  travelled 


54     ^  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

in  climbing  a  hill.  At  another  turn  we 
met  a  four-in-hand  taking  the  ascent 
bravely,  the  big  horses  throwing 
their  feet  up  and  holding  their  heads 
high.  There  were  a  dozen  men  on 
the  top ;  of  course  nobody  was 
inside,  for  those  seats  go  for  nothing. 
A  Tantivy  may  be  seen  often  enough 
here  in  the  fall  perhaps,  but  one  does 
not  expect  them  now.  However,  if 
I  owned  one  of  these  coaches  and 
the  horses  to  go  with  it,  I  would 
certainly  invite  a  party  of  friends  to 
drive  with  me  up  from  New  York  in 
the  early  summer. 

The  turn-out  thundered  on  by  us  ; 
the  man  who  held  the  ribbons  know- 
ing how  to  make  each  horse  do  his 
duty,  and  that  is  knowing  a  great 
deal,  for  even  with  an  humble  pair 
there  is  always  one  animal  more  in- 
clined to  shirk  than  is  the  other.  I 
do  not  know  how  much  champagne 
there  Avas  in  that  big  coach-boot,  but 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox,        55 

the  young  fellows  on  top  hardly 
needed  any  of  it  to  make  them  gayer 
than  they  were  as  they  went  on 
their  journey. 

I  think  we  were  rather  melancholy 
as  w^e  drove  back  to  Pittsfield  in  the 
sunset.  It  is  a  joy  to  see  a  lovely 
scene,  but  it  is  a  sorrow  to  leave  it, 
and  we  even  fancied  that  we  were 
depressed  by  the  change  in  the 
atmosphere  from  the  village  on  the 
hill  to  the  commonplace  air  of  lower 
altitudes.  There  comes  a  time,  even 
among  the  hills  of  western  Massa- 
chusetts, when  lassitude  and  indiffer- 
ence follow  enjoyment,  We  went 
on  at  a  jog-trot  over  the  road  which 
had  so  interested  us  in  the  morning, 
and  which  was  as  full  of  interest  now, 
had  we  not  been  so  fatigued.  Some- 
times the  way  was  in  a  bright  sun- 
light, and  then  in  the  deep  shade  of 
some  intervening  elevation.  It  was 
in  the  shadow  of  one  of  these  hills 


6     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 


that  we  saw  a  procession  coming 
down  a  cart  path  which  seemed  to 
lead  to  a  house  on  the  slope  above. 
The  house  was  in  the  full  glare  of 
light,  and  was  an  old  brown,  low- 
browed dwelling  that  might  well 
enough  have  stood  there  since  1750. 
There  were  elm  trees  about  it,  but 
they  stood  so  much  higher  that  their 
limbs  drooped  down  above  the 
chimney.  One  of  them  had  been 
riven  right  down  through  the  middle 
by  a  stroke  of  lightning,  and  had 
been  let  to  continue  its  struggle  for 
life  ever  since.  That  one  tree  ruin 
gave  an  air  of  desolation  to  the 
whole  surroundings,  though  the  cul- 
tivated lands  down  the  slope  into 
the  valley  were  covered  with  luxuri- 
antly growing  crops.  At  one  place 
there  was  a  man  ploughing  between 
corn,  and  we  caught  the  damp,  pe- 
culiar odor  of  the  turned-up  earth. 
The    procession   of    which    I    have 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox,        5  7 

spoken  was  almost  at  the  road.  We 
stopped  that  we  might  look  more 
closely.  There  were  five  children, 
plainly  of  one  family,  with  their 
home  at  the  old  house  up  there. 
The  eldest  must  have  been  about 
fourteen,  a  girl,  who  was  at  the  head. 
Directly  behind  her  were  two  boys 
of  ten  or  eleven,  who  evidently  were 
twins.  They  dragged  a  small  cart 
made  of  a  box,  with  solid  round 
Avood  for  wheels.  On  this  cart  lay 
stiff  and  stark  the  body  of  a  small 
white  kitten  on  a  bed  of  wild  roses, 
clover,  and  daisies.  Behind  this 
cart,  in  single  file,  came  two  small 
girls,  one  a  head  taller  than  the 
other,  the  smaller  one  bringing  up 
the  rear.  This  smallest  child  was 
still  crying  and  sobbing  violently 
into  her  apron.  All  the  others  looked 
as  if  they  had  cried  a  great  deal,  but 
were  now  too  much  impressed  with 
the  solemn  dignity  of  the  occasion  to 


58     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

weep.  A  few  yards  behind  the 
toddling  baby  walked  a  dog,  looking 
very  disconsolate  and  somewhat 
bored,  but  as  if  he  could  not  desert 
his  friends  in  their  grief.  Still  he 
could  not  appear  to  grieve  too  much 
for  a  mere  cat. 

When  the  girl  at  the  head  saw  us, 
she  stopped  involuntarily,  and  all 
the  rest  came  to  a  stand-still,  includ- 
ing the  dog,  who  pricked  up  his  ears 
and  gave  a  short  bark,  as  if  glad  of 
any  interruption.  He  was  a  common- 
looking  yellow  dog,  but  he  had  a 
bright  face.  The  baby  ahead  of  him 
took  her  apron  from  her  face  and 
stopped  her  sobs  as  she  stared  at 
us. 

We  wished  very  much  to  join 
these  ceremonies,  but  how  could  we 
intrude  ? 

"  Let  us  follow,"  said  my  friend, 
leaning  out  of  the  carriage,  and 
speaking  at  her  gentlest.     ''  We  will 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox.        59 

not  come  too  near.  We  also  love 
kittens  and  dogs." 

The  girl  nodded,  and  the  funeral 
cortege  moved  on  ahead  of  us.  I 
fear  this  addition  to  the  train  was  a 
complication  to  the  ceremonies  that 
was  not  rehshed  by  the  leader,  but 
she  was  too  polite  or  too  timid  to 
say  so. 

They  stopped  at  a  small,  smooth 
grass-plat  by  a  bit  of  a  brook  that 
ran  down  from  the  hill  at  the  left. 
This  place  was  close  by  the  road,  and 
in  the  middle  of  it  we  saw  that  a 
tiny  grave  had  been  dug,  by  the 
twins,  we  thought.  We  paused  at 
some  distance,  too  far  to  hear  if  any 
words  Vv*ere  said.  We  saw  the  body 
of  the  kitten  put  in  the  grave,  then 
all  the  flowers  were  heaped  on  her. 
After  that,  each  of  the  mourners 
took  up  a  handful  of  gravel  and 
threw  in.  When  the  eldest  girl  led 
up  the  baby  to  throw  in  her  handful. 


6o     A  Vacation  m  a  Btiggy. 

the  baby  was  crying  so  that  her 
hand  had  to  be  guided. 

The  dog  sat  on  his  haunches  a 
short  distance  away.  The  dazzHng 
sunhght  came  through  a  gap  in  the 
hills  and  covered  the  group. 

The  twins  began  to  shovel  in  the 
earth  with  two  small,  old-fashioned 
fire-shovels. 

In  a  few  minutes  we  drove  on, 
until  we  came  just  opposite  the 
place.  We  beckoned  to  the  girl, 
who  came  up  to  us,  looking  very 
sober ;  she  had  the  small  one  by  the 
hand. 

''  It  was  very  good  of  you  to  let 
us  stay,"  said  my  companion,  in  that 
particular  tone  of  hers  which  comes 
from  the  heart,  and  therefore  goes 
to  the  heart.  ""  Perhaps  you  can 
get  the  baby  something  with  this." 

The  girl's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
She  hesitated. 

*'  We   did  n't  want  any   money," 


A  Glimpse  of  Lenox,        6i 

she  said,  looking  at  the  silver  ex- 
tended toward  her. 

''  I  know  it.  But  it  is  pleasant  to 
give  you  this,"  was  the  response. 

Then  we  drove  on  more  swiftly  to 
Pittsfield  for  the  night. 

For  some  reason,  when  I  grew 
drowsy  in  sleep  that  evening,  my 
incoherent  thoughts,  instead  of 
dwelling  on  the  beauties  of  hill  and 
valley  which  I  had  seen  that  day, 
hovered  persistently  about  those 
children. 


V. 

A  HOT  BOX. 

We  left  Pittsfield  very  early  in  the 
morning,  so  early  that  the  waiter 
who  gave  us  our  breakfast  at  the 
hotel  was  extremely  surly,  and 
yawned  so  that  he  was  at  great  risk 
of  falling  headlong  into  our  coffee 
and  beefsteak.  The  extremeness  of 
the  hour  had  its  effect  on  us  also,  for 
we  could  not  eat,  knowing  all  the 
time  how  fiercely  hungry  we  should 
be  in  two  hours'  time. 

The  horse  came  round  with  a  spear 
of  hay  still  hanging  from  his  mouth, 
as  if  in  silent  attestation  that  he  had 
not  finished  his  meal.  The  matuti- 
nal moroseness  was  so  strongly  upon 
everybody  that   I  hardly  dared  put 


A  Hot  Box,  63 

my  usual  question  upon  starting, 
''Have  the  wheels  been  oiled?" 
But  I  did  ask  it,  and  was  answered 
scornfully,  **  Oh,  yes,  ma'am."  This 
was  the  regular  reply  to  my  regular 
interrogation.  We  never  really  be- 
lieved it,  and  yet  neither  of  us  ever 
acted  upon  our  disbelief.  We  would 
converse  exhaustively  upon  the  sub- 
ject, and  always  end,  after  expressing 
entire  incredulity,  by  saying,  ''  Well, 
he  said  they  had  been  oiled."  Thus 
people  will  stifle  the  cries  of  con- 
science. 

It  is  five  o'clock  when  we  drive  by 
one  of  the  church  clocks  in  Pitts- 
field.  We  have  that  feeling  of  recti- 
tude which  is  the  reward  of  early 
risers.  We  looked  with  pity  upon  the 
still-closed  blinds  of  the  houses.  We 
talked  of  the  benefits  of  early  rising  ; 
still  I  think  that,  deep  in  our  hearts, 
we  did  not  begin  to  feel  really  capable 
of  enjoying  any  thing  for  some  time. 


64     A  Vacation  i7i  a  Buggy, 

But  there  was  enough  to  enjoy. 
We  were  going  towards  South  Moun- 
tain, hoping  to  be  able  to  ascend  it 
for  the  sake  of  the  prospect,  and 
then  in  the  afternoon  to  go  on  tow- 
ards Worthington,  and  reach  Ches- 
terfield for  the  night  if  possible.  A 
horse  may  safely  average  thirty 
miles  a  day,  and  our  horse  had  had 
a  very  easy  time  of  it  thus  far.  We 
felt  that,  in  this  long  day,  we  might 
safely  ask  forty  miles  of  him,  or 
more,  if  he  had  a  good  nooning. 

It  was  in  the  middle  of  a  lonely 
road,  and  precisely  ten  minutes  after 
six  by  my  watch,  that  I  first  heard  a 
slight  squeaking  sound.  I  did  not 
speak  of  it,  but  said  resolutely  to 
myself  :  ''  It  is  the  whiffletree."  I 
knew  that  this  part  of  a  carriage 
may  make  itself  unpleasant  in  this 
way,  and  still  not  mean  any  thing 
serious.  Five  minutes  later  my 
friend  said  that  she  noticed  a  squeak, 


A  Hot  Box,  65 

but  that  it  must  be  the  whiffletree. 
I  agreed  with  her.  The  horse  was 
walking  slowly  up  an  incline.  The 
sound  continued,  sometimes  louder, 
sometimes  more  subdued.  Silent 
anxiety  increased  on  our  part.  Fi- 
nally I  said  : 

"  Do  you  think  we  are  going  to 
have  a  hot  box  ?  " 

*'  That  was  just  what  I  was  about 
to  ask  you,"  was  the  response. 

We  kept  on  going  up  the  hill. 
Human  nature  needs  just  so  much 
warning  before  it  will  take  heed. 
Finally  I  asked,  meditatively  :  "  Do 
you  suppose  that  a  hot  box  in  a 
buggy  is  as  powerful  a  retarder  as  it 
is  on  a  train  of  steam  cars  ?  " 

"  I  was  about  to  ask  you  the  same 
question,"  said  my  companion.  Then 
I  pulled  up  the  lines — I  was  taking 
my  turn  at  driving — and  said  aus- 
terely that  I  did  not  think  levity  was 
called    for   by   such    a   question.     I 


66     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

added,  with  more  indignation  still, 
that  it  would  be  a  solemn  thing  to 
be  delayed  indefinitely  near  South 
Mountain,  for,  although  we  had  a 
copious  luncheon  for  ourselves  and 
the  horse,  we  had  no  tent  and  no 
bedding,  and  I  did  not  know  how 
long  a  hot  box  was  capable  of  last- 
ing in  a  buggy  occupied  by  women. 
When  I  ceased  speaking,  my  friend 
said  she  thought  it  was  a  good  time 
to  try  the  monkey-wrench  and  the 
wheel-grease,  for  it  was  her  belief 
that  there  had  not  been  a  drop  of 
oil  put  on  that  carriage  since  we  left 
Catskill.  But  even  so,  I  did  not  see 
why  our  wheels  should  become  so 
vocal  as  this.  We  were  now  out  of 
the  buggy,  and  had  to  decide  which 
wheel  it  was  that  needed  attention. 
I  was  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  the 
off  hind  wheel,  my  friend  feeHng 
positive  that  it  was  the  nigh  front 
one.     I  am  sure  that  we  both  felt  a 


A  Hot  Box.  67 

slight  pleasure  in  being  able  to  use 
these  terms  so  glibly.  This  pleasure 
was  our  only  compensation  for  the 
delay.  To  decide  matters  more  sat- 
isfactorily I  led  the  horse  along  a  few 
rods,  while  my  friend  walked  first 
upon  one  side  of  the  carriage,  and 
then  upon  the  other,  her  ear  inclined 
and  listening.  She  decided  that  I 
was  right,  that  it  was  the  off  hind 
wheel.  Now  we  conducted  the  horse 
as  far  as  possible  up  among  the 
bushes  at  one  side  of  the  road,  and 
took  him  from  the  shafts  lest  he 
might  start  on  with  only  three  wheels 
to  the  carriage.  We  hitched  him  by 
tying  seven  or  eight  knots  in  his 
hitch-rope  lashed  about  a  small  ma- 
ple. The  simplicity  of  a  "  horse- 
knot  "  we  could  not  then  achieve. 
Then  we  brought  forth  the  monkey- 
wrench  and  placed  it  on  the  nut  of 
the  wheel.  This  process  is  really  so 
very  plain  that  even  any  one  belong- 


68     A  Vacation  i7i  a  Buggy. 

ing  to  that  class  called  by  the  law 
"  idiots  and  women  "  can  accomplish 
it.  Therefore  we  succeeded.  We, 
or  rather  my  friend,  for  I  stood  by 
ready  with  advice,  tightened  up  the 
wrench  and  gave  it  a  twist — in  the 
wrong  direction,  for  the  nut  tight- 
ened instead  of  loosening.  But  the 
next  attempt  began  the  unscrewing 
of  the  nut,  which  was  soon  removed. 
I  stepped  forward  to  pull  the  wheel 
off,  but  it  would  not  stir,  fortunately, 
which  gave  us  time  to  perceive  that 
if  I  had  succeeded  in  my  attempt 
the  buggy  would  have  dropped  on 
that  side  to  the  ground,  to  its  proba- 
ble disarrangement. 

''  What  we  seem  to  want  is  a  car- 
riage-jack," said  the  person  who  still 
held  the  wrench  in  her  hand. 

"  But  a  carriage-jack,"  I  replied, 
"  is  not  usually  put  in  the  luggage  of 
two  travelling  women.  However, 
hereafter  I  shall  always  say  to  my 


A  Hot  Box.  69 

friends,  *  Never  leave  home  without 
a  carriage-jack.'  Let  us  look  for  a 
stick." 

We  went  into  the  woods  by  the 
roadside.  After  some  time  we  found 
a  piece  of  oak,  very  heavy  and  con- 
siderably too  long,  but  we  worked 
until  we  got  it  in  place,  one  lifting 
one  side  of  the  carriage  while  the 
other  quickly  thrust  the  wood  under 
the  axle,  near  the  wheel,  which,  to 
our  alarm,  we  found  would  not  turn 
round  now.  With  lips  as  pallid  as  if 
we  had  been  heroines,  we  asked  our- 
selves how  hot  that  box  had  become. 
Were  the  metals  welded  together? 
Must  we  go  back  to  Pittsfield  after 
a  blacksmith  ? 

We  took  turns  at  struggling  to 
start  the  wheel,  and  when  despair 
was  fast  settling  down  upon  us,  it 
yielded  and  came  off.  There  was 
not  a  bit  of  oil  to  be  seen  ;  the  iron 
— or  is  it  steel  ? — was  dry,  with  spots 


JO     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

of  rust,  and  so  warm  that  it  was  not 
pleasant  to  put  our  fingers  on  it. 

"  First  clean  the  spindle  thorough- 
ly, using  an  old  piece  of  woollen 
cloth  and  a  little  kerosene  oil,"  said  I. 

Strange  to  say,  we  had  not  brought 
a  can  of  kerosene.  I  particularly 
mention  these  oversights,  that  women 
who  contemplate  a  driving  trip  may 
profit  by  our  sufferings. 

We  naturally  omitted  the  clean- 
ing. With  scant  elaboration  we 
daubed  on  some  of  the  patent  axle- 
grease,  putting  some  on  our  gowns 
at  the  same  time.  Then  we  lifted 
back  the  wheel  and  pushed  it  on, 
finding  to  our  confusion  that  the  nut 
was  not  nearly  large  enough  for  the 
large  orifice  that  now  gaped  before 
us.  What  did  this  mean  ?  What 
had  we  done  ? 

We  walked  round  the  carriage  ex- 
amining keenly.  We  found  out  that 
we  had  put  the  wheel  on  wrong  side 


A  Hot  Box.  J I 

out,  so  to  speak.  It  did  not  take  us 
long  to  change  it,  and  to  fasten  the 
nut  on  again,  when  we  saw,  to  our 
delight,  that  the  wheel  revolved 
**  just  as  well  as  if  a  man  had  done 
it,"  we  said  triumphantly.  We  re- 
placed the  horse  in  the  shafts  and 
started  on,  having  a  sense  of  victory 
diffused  through  our  souls  such  as  I 
cannot  describe.  For  some  time  we 
talked  of  nothing  but  the  incom- 
petency of  some  women  when  placed 
where  unusual  work  was  demanded 
of  them  ;  we  pitied  the  poor  crea- 
tures a  little,  and  despised  them  a 
good  deal. 

Later,  when,  on  foot,  we  had 
reached  the  top  of  the  mountain, 
we  forgot  our  self-gratulations  and 
stood  silent,  warm,  weary,  but  hap- 
py. It  is  worth  much  to  be  able  to 
feast  the  eye  and  the  heart  as  they 
may  be  feasted  in  this  place.  Close 
to  us  towards  the   north,   Pittsfield 


72     A  Vacation  i7i  a  Buggy. 

sits  upon  its  plateau  ;  and  near  it,  a 
spirit  of  very  beauty,  Onota  Lake 
glitters  in  the  sunshine,  calling  back 
the  glance  again  and  again  to  its 
radiance.  To  the  northward,  also, 
grim  Greylock  rises,  and  over  on  the 
west  are  Perry's  Peak  and  Mount 
Osceola.  We  looked  at  these  until 
our  eyes  were  half  blinded  by  the 
persistence  of  our  eager  gaze.  We 
had  yet  to  see  Lenox  Mountain 
somewhat  to  the  south,  and  the 
mountains  of  Washington.  These 
elevations  rose  just  far  enough  away 
to  appeal  deeply  to  the  sight  as  well 
as  to  the  imagination.  How  green 
the  valleys  v/ere  !  What  delicious- 
ness  in  the  dusky  stretches  of  new 
growth  of  wood  along  hill  slopes 
that  had  been  cut  over  a  few  years 
ago  !  The  hues  in  such  places  were 
more  tender  and  delicate  than  in  the 
old  forests,  and  contrasted  with  the 
great  trees. 


A  Hot  Box,  73 

Apparently  close  to  us  was  the 
Lilly  Bowl,  holding  its  sheet  of  shin- 
ing water  up  to  the  morning  sun. 
The  name  of  this  lake  seemed  to  me 
to  be  spelled  wrongly,  until  I  learned 
that,  unfortunately,  it  did  not  refer 
to  the  flower,  but  to  an  old  witch 
who,  in  romantic  times,  lived  alone 
in  this  valley  and  ranged  over  the 
hills  in  the  vicinity.  The  dale  is 
even  now  sometimes  called  Lilly 
Ope,  a  combination  of  words  that 
ought  to  please  the  sentimental 
tourist ;  I  confess  that  Lilly  Ope 
sounds  agreeably  to  me.  I  would 
have  been  glad  to  see  a  big,  gaunt 
figure  start  into  life  down  by  the 
still  shores  of  that  pond.  I  even 
thought  I  should  have  been  thank- 
ful for  a  wild  Indian,  if  he  did  not 
see  us  ;  and  there,  of  all  places,  was 
the  spot  for  a  group  of  deer  to  come 
and  drink.  But  we  did  not  spoil 
this  vision  of  beauty  by  longing  for 


74     ^  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

Indians  and  deer.  We  longed  for 
nothing.  For  the  time  it  was  beati- 
tude to  move  slowly  about  on  South 
Mountain  and  gaze  long  in  any  di- 
rection, thinking  each  time  that  the 
scene  looked  on  last  was  the  fairest 
and  loveliest  of  all.  Beyond  and  all 
about  us  were  other  hills,  looming 
here  and  thefe,  thrown  up  indis- 
criminately, as  irreproachable  back- 
grounds to  the  more  intimate  beauty 
among  which  we  stood.  Walking 
this  way  and  that,  we  sometimes 
caught  sight  of  a  rich  intervale  where 
were  prosperous  farms,  for  the  Housa- 
tonic  River  runs  through  a  country 
that  makes  it  possible  for  men  to 
live  by  farming. 

But  we  must  come  down  from  this 
mount  of  the  beautiful  and  go  on  our 
way  to  Hinsdale.  We  went  as  slow- 
ly  down  the  mountain  as  we  had 
come  up.  Often  we  stopped  to  gaze 
and  to  exclaim,  and  then   to  sit  si- 


A  Hot  Box,  75 

lent.  It  seemed  to  be  eight  or  ten 
miles  to  Hinsdale  ;  perhaps  it  is  not 
really  so  far.  We  went  through  the 
lower  part  of  Dalton,  but  saw  none 
of  its  paper  mills.  The  way  now 
grew  rougher  and  more  wild.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  the  bright  sun  and 
unclouded  sky,  I  could  almost  have 
thought  that  the  country  was  getting 
desolate.  The  houses  were  very  far 
apart ;  the  signs  of  cultivation  were 
few. 

The  mountains  in  Hinsdale  have 
withdrawn  somewhat  from  the  vil- 
lage, but  yonder  in  Peru  they  loom 
up  again  grandly.  We  are  going 
through  Peru,  for  my  friend  has  a 
friend  there,  and  we  mean  to  call  , 
only  to  call,  however,  for  we  have  re- 
solved to  be  so  free  in  this  journey 
that  we  will  not  stay  save  at  hotels. 

The  roads  grow  more  narrow  and 
rough,  and  I  could  have  said  craggy, 
they  pitch    about    so.     We   were   a 


76     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

great  while  going  the  four  miles 
from  Hinsdale.  The  way  was  so 
long,  apparently,  that  we  began  to 
believe  we  did  not  take  the  right 
road,  and  I  am  still  inclined  to  that 
belief.  We  passed  tipsy  guide-boards 
directing  us  on  the  left  to  Cumming- 
ton  and  Plainfield,  the  highways 
running  that  way  looking  not  much 
wider  than  paths.  Our  buggy,  which 
was  wider  than  the  carriages  used  up 
here,  ran  over  beyond  the  v/heel  rut 
on  one  side,  making  the  work  of  the 
horse  still  harder,  and  causing  us  to 
wonder  if  we  could  avoid  a  collision 
if  we  met  any  one.  It  was  rarely 
that  we  did  meet  any  other  travel- 
ler, and  then  it  was  a  farmer  in  a 
long,  narrow  cart,  driving  a  big  hay- 
fed  horse,  which  he  would  turn  far 
into  the  bushes  to  allow  us  to  pass, 
he  staring  hard  all  the  time. 

Finally  we  came  within  sight  of 
the   village  of    Peru  ;    it    is    a   true 


A  Hot  Box,  yy 

mountain  town,  with  a  most  dis- 
tracting view  ready  for  your  eyes 
whichever  way  you  turn  ;  a  place  to 
love  violently  through  a  whole  sum- 
mer, and  to  remember  tenderly  all  of 
the  following  winter.  I  suggested  to 
my  friend  that  it  might  be  well,  if 
her  friend  should  be  hospitably  in- 
clined, for  us  to  remain  here  the  rest 
of  the  day  and  through  the  night. 

"  No,"  was  the  decided  reply, 
"  Hitty  Jane  is  one  of  the  best  of 
women ;  but  she  would  talk  us  to 
death  long  before  morning,  and  she 
would  describe  each  view  until  we 
should  hate  her  and  the  view  ;  and  I 
wish  not  to  hate  any  thing  while 
this  journey  lasts." 

When  we  drove  up  to  Hitty  Jane's 
house,  which  was  pointed  out  as  not 
far  from  the  post-office,  we  were 
greeted  in  the  most  voluble  and 
effusive  manner.  We  must  instant- 
ly have  our  horse  taken  out  and  fed ; 


78     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

we  must  come  right  in  and  be  fed 
ourselves ;  we  must  certainly  stay- 
over  a  few  days  and  be  taken  to  this 
place  and  that.  "  She  would  not 
take  no  for  an  answer."  This  re- 
mark she  repeated  a  great  many 
times  as  she  forcibly  removed  my 
companion's  hat  and  began  to  un- 
button her  ulster.  My  heart  sank. 
This  deluge  of  talk  would  soon  make 
me  addle-headed.  I  feared  my  friend 
would  not  have  sufficient  strength  of 
mind  to  resist.  But  she  did.  At  last 
Hitty  Jane  was  made  to  know  that 
we  must  be  in  Worthington  that 
night  without  fail.  We  had  meant 
to  reach  Chesterfield,  but  we  had 
dawdled  so,  etc.,  etc.  Hitty  Jane 
really  took  in  the  fact  that  we  would 
not  stop.  She  brewed  us  coffee,  and 
she  placed  toothsome  things  before 
us  She  was  so  kind  that  I  felt  I 
could  not  have  her  talk  so  much. 
She    never   stopped   talking   an    in- 


A  Hot  Box.  79 

stant.  If  she  asked  a  question,  she 
never  waited  for  the  answer ;  she 
made  many  inquiries  about  our  jour- 
ney ;  but  I  soon  saw  for  myself  that 
it  was  folly  to  attempt  reply. 

She  did  seem  to  learn  from  us,  how- 
ever, that  we  were  going  to  Worth- 
ington,  for,  as  we  were  preparing  to 
leave,  she  suddenly  said  : 

"  If  you  are  going  right  to  Worth- 
ington  village,  perhaps  you  '11  do  me 
a  favor?  " 

We  protested  our  willingness,  and 
she  went  on  to  explain  that  she  had 
promished  her  cousin  Emily,  resi- 
dent in  Worthington,  that  she  would 
give  her  one  of  their  Newfoundland 
pups  the  first  chance  she  had  to  send 
it  over.  Now,  if  we  would  take  one, 
she  would  be  more  obliged  than  she 
could  tell. 

The  Newfoundland  puppy  was 
brought  forward  ;  he  proved  to  be 
about  three  months  old,  very  bulky, 


8o     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

and  blundering,  and  good-natured, 
seeming  to  have  seven  or  eight  large 
paws  to  sprawl  about  with,  and  hav- 
ing an  unquenchable  desire  to  lick 
your  face  constantly.  We  had  a 
rope  put  around  his  neck  and  placed 
him  in  the  front  of  the  buggy.  We 
were  told  that  he  knew  nothing  about 
following,  and  we  must  not  let  him 
out  of  the  carriage  for  a  moment. 
We  started,  and  it  seemed  as  if  v/e 
had  an  elephant  with  us.  Besides, 
we  soon  became  aware  that  travel 
made  the  dog  sick.  Within  a  mile 
of  Peru  we  had  to  stop  and  alight  to 
permit  him  to  recover,  which  he  did 
with  lightning  rapidity,  and,  fortu- 
nately, the  recovery  appeared  to  be 
permanent,  and  then  he  curled  down 
and  went  to  sleep. 

In  two  miles  more  it  occurred  to 
my  friend  that  she  had  not  been  told 
where  she  was  to  deliver  the  dog. 
It  was  to  go  to  "  Cousin  Emily  " ; 


A  Hot  Box,  8 1 

all  other  instructions  had  been  ne- 
glected. Nothing  was  known  to 
either  of  us  of  any  of  Hitty  Jane's 
relatives  in  Worthington. 


VL 

HITTY  JANE'S  COUSIN  EMILY'S  DOG. 

What  kind  of  a  place  is  Worth- 
ington  ?  It  may  be  almost  any 
thing.  Even  at  a  few  hours'  dis- 
tance from  it,  I  had  no  distinct  re- 
membrance concerning  what  it  is 
like.  It  was  on  our  arrival  at  this 
place  that  we  had  the  puppy  which 
we  had  promised  to  deliver  without 
knowing  to  whom  to  deliver  it. 

We  did  not  turn  back  to  Peru,  be- 
cause we  kept  saying  to  each  other 
that  somebody  would  be  able  to  tell 
us  at  our  destination  where  Hitty 
Jane's  cousin  Emily  lived.  It  was  a 
small  place,  of  course,  and  every  per- 
son would  know  every  other  person 
and  all  the  relatives.     Thus  we  com- 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog.        83 

forted  ourselves  and  drove  on,  the 
dog  sleeping  calmly.  We  were  very 
thankful  that  he  slept,  for  when  he 
was  awake  he  had  been  either  sea- 
sick from  the  motion  of  the  carriage, 
or  so  violently  playful  that  it  was 
with  difficulty  we  could  remain  in 
the  same  buggy  with  him.  Occa- 
sionally, as  we  went  over  the  hills,  I 
would  essay  to  look  about  me,  but 
my  mind  was  not  in  my  eyes  ;  my 
mind  was  conjecturing  every  thing 
possible  about  Cousin  Emily. 

We  entered  the  main  street  of 
Worthington  shortly  before  sunset. 
Our  first  duty,  we  had  decided,  was 
to  drive  directly  to  the  post-office 
and  make  what  inquiries  were  possi- 
ble. It  was  not  easy  to  make  these 
questions  very  lucid.  My  friend 
disappeared  from  view  within  the 
building,  and  after  a  short  absence  re- 
turned, looking  frustrated.  "  There  's 
a   woman    in  there,"  she   said.     "  I 


84     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

asked  her  if  she  knew  Mrs.  B.  of 
Peru.  She  replied  that  she  did  not, 
but  she  knew  Mrs.  J.  of  Hinsdale  ; 
and  before  I  could  say  any  thing 
more,  she  explained  very  kindly  that 
if  Mrs.  B.  lived  In  Peru,  her  letters 
would  naturally  go  there,  instead  of 
coming  here.  I  tried  to  say  that  I 
did  not  call  to  ask  any  thing  about 
letters,  but  that  I  had  a  young  New- 
foundland  dog .     At  this  point 

she  shuddered  and  said  she  was  aw- 
fully afraid  of  dogs,  because  she  had 
been  bitten  by  one  when  she  was  a 
child  ;  and  she  was  sorry,  but  none 
of  them  would  wish  to  buy  a  dog 
to-day.  Then  she  began  to  stamp 
letters,  with  her  back  toward  me,  and 
I  came  out.  Now,  do  you  think  every 
one  will  think  I  am  peddling  dogs  ? 
You  see,  after  they  say  they  don't 
know  Mrs.  B.  of  Peru,  it  is  of  no  use  to 
inquire  if  they  know  her  cousin  Emily. 
What  doyouthinkwehadbetterdo?" 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog.        85 

I  proposed  that  we  should  now 
drive  to  the  hotel,  restore  ourselves 
by  supper,  and  then  walk  out  through 
the  village,  leading  the  dog  and  mak- 
ing inquiries.  "  But  perhaps,"  I  con- 
cluded, hopefully, ''  perhaps  they  will 
know  at  the  hotel ;  anyway,  there  is 
always  the  alternative  of  going  back 
to  Peru  and  Hitty  Jane  to-morrow." 

"  I  will  not  retreat,"  was  the  reply, 
as  the  speaker  chmbed  into  the 
buggy  as  well  as  she  could  over  the 
puppy. 

We  went  to  the  Waverley  House. 
We  saw  the  dog  tied  securely  to  a 
post  near  the  stable,  and  then  we 
had  our  supper,  and  revived  ourselves 
by  a  short  rest  in  our  room,  which 
overlooked  the  place  where  the  dog 
was  fastened.  He  saw  us  and  writhed 
and  whined  incessantly.  When  we 
had  sufficiently  reposed,  we  went 
down  stairs  and  had  a  private  inter- 
view with  the  landlord.     But  the  in- 


86     A  Vacalion  in  a  Buggy, 

terview  amounted  to  nothing,  for  he 
was  not  acquainted  in  Peru  at  all, 
consequently  did  not  know  Mrs.  B. 
We  carried,  with  our  own  hands,  a 
bowl  of  bread  and  milk  to  the 
puppy,  and  when  he  had  eaten  it 
we  led  him  forth,  frisking  clumsily. 
We  did  not  feel  in  the  least  like 
frisking. 

We  said  the  only  way  to  make 
sure  that  we  had  not  missed  the 
right  place  was  to  stop  at  every 
house.  I  felt  that  I  ought  to  aid 
my  friend,  and  so  I  sacrificed  my- 
self, and  said  that  I  would  go  on  one 
side  of  the  street,  and  she  on  the 
other.  Not  until  we  found  some 
one  who  knew  Mrs.  B.  of  Peru  were 
we  to  tell  any  more  of  our  story.  I 
don't  know  what  form  my  compan- 
ion adopted,  but  I  adhered  strictly 
to  the  fewest  words  that  would  ask 
the  question,  and  I  did  not  apologize 
or  say  that  I  was  not  insane.     Why 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog,        87 

should  they  believe  any  such  state- 
ment of  mine  ? 

When  I  had  made  this  inquiry 
five  times  I  found  that  it  was  wear- 
ing work.  I  began  to  wish  that  I 
had  something  to  sell,  so  that  I 
might,  in  the  midst  of  other  conver- 
sation, tell  that  Mrs.  B.  of  Peru  had 
bought  largely  of  me,  and  then  casu- 
ally ask  if  they  knew  Mrs.  B.  I  felt 
that  if  this  thing  continued  an  hour 
longer,  I  should  go  to  a  shop  and 
buy  a  stock  of  pins  and  needles  to 
retail.  I  must  have  something  to 
break  the  deadly  monotony.  When 
I  had  asked  the  question  for  the 
third  time  I  knew  exactly  how  each 
face  would  look,  and  I  dreaded  to 
see  that  look  ;  it  was  a  combination 
of  curiosity,  surprise,  and  a  little 
alarm  lest  I  might  be  violently  crazy 
and  pull  a  knife  or  a  pistol  from  my 
skirts.  I  began  to  have  diabolical 
inclinations ;    I   wished   that    I   had 


88     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

a  revolver  to  display ;  the  women 
should  not  look  at  me  like  that  for 
nothing. 

As  I  walked  away  from  the  fifth 
house  I  saw  my  fellow-sufferer  a 
goodly  distance  ahead  of  me,  for  the 
houses  were  not  so  many  on  her  side 
of  the  street.  At  the  same  time  a 
farmer  in  one  of  the  narrow,  box-like 
wagons  of  the  country  came  driving 
deliberately  by  me.  I  have  always 
believed  that,  at  this  moment  of  my 
life  I  was  inspired.  Why  not  ask 
this  man  ?  Acting  upon  this  im- 
pulse, I  stepped  forward  and  held 
up  my  hand  to  hail  him.  In  re- 
sponse to  my  signal  he  pulled  in  his 
horse  and  gazed.  Then  followed 
this  conversation  : 

'*  Do  you  know  Mrs.  B.  of  Peru?" 
I  inquire,  my  lips  almost  stiffening 
as  I  pronounce  the  words,  and  at  the 
same  instant  become  aware  that  the 
woman  of  v/hom  I  have  just  asked 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog.        89 

the  question  in  the  house  behind  me 
is  standing  in  the  open  door-way,  and 
has  heard  me  again.  Without  seeing 
her,  I  know  that  she  looks  frightened, 
but  is  held  spell-bound  to  the  spot. 
I  do  not  think  that  she  yet  knows 
that  there  are  two  women  who  are 
going  through  the  town  uttering  the 
same  interrogation.  I  wish  I  could 
overhear  the  talk  among  these  people 
an  hour  later. 

The  farmer  whom  I  had  addressed 
proved  to  be  somewhat  deaf.  He 
leaned  far  over  from  the  seat  and 
said  :    ''  What  say  ?  '' 

I  repeated  my  demand  of  him. 

"  Mrs.  B.,"  he  said.  "  Ye  don't 
mean  Hitty  Jane,  do  ye  ?  " 

I  think  I  must  have  clasped  my 
hands  in  ecstasy  when  I  heard  him 
reply. 

**Yes,  I  do  mean  Hitty  Jane,"  I 
answered.  '*  Do  you  knov/  Hitty 
Jane's  cousin  Emily?  " 


90     A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

He  laughed  broadly.  ''  I  guess  I 
know  Emily  ruther  well,"  he  an- 
swered, "  for  I  happen  to  be  her 
father.     Any  news  from  Hitty  ?  " 

I  wanted  to  shed  hysterical  tears. 
Instead  of  weeping,  however,  I 
begged  leave  to  get  into  the  wagon, 
saying  that  we  must  immediately 
overtake  a  friend  of  mine ;  that  we 
had  a  Newfoundland  puppy  that 
Mrs.  B.  had  sent ;  jumbling  up  my 
words  so  that  the  man  did  not  under- 
stand for  some  time.  All  the  while 
I  knew  that  that  woman  was  listen- 
ing at  the  door. 

At  last  we  reached  my  friend,  who 
was  leading  the  puppy.  As  soon  as 
she  saw  me  I  began  to  gesticulate 
wildly  at  her.  She  came  rapidly 
towards  me.  She  told  me  after- 
v/ards  that  she  supposed  this  busi- 
ness had  turned  my  brain,  and  that 
my  frantic  movements  were  the  first 
symptoms  of  insanity. 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog.        9 1 

It  maybe  better  not  to  attempt  to 
portray  our  joy  and  relief  when  we 
saw  the  puppy  in  the  wagon  behind 
Cousin  Emily's  father.  It  appeared 
to  me  that  we  had  had  that  puppy 
with  us  for  months.  We  declined 
the  m.an's  very  cordial  invitation  to 
spend  the  night  at  his  house,  which 
was  only  a  short  distance  out  of  the 
village.  It  seems  that  we  had  passed 
his  farm  on  our  way  from  Peru. 

We  w^ent  back  to  the  hotel.  Before 
the  daylight  was  really  gone  from  the 
tops  of  the  hills  about  the  town  we 
were  asleep,  our  minds  free  from  care. 

We  had  no  inclination  to  stay  in 
Worthington  a  moment  after  our 
breakfast  the  next  morning,  and 
started  immediately  for  Chesterfield. 
When  our  carriage  was  brought 
round,  the  hostler  said  '^  that  there 
wa'n't  no  washers  on  one  of  them 
wheels,"  pointing  to  the  one  w^e  had 
removed  the  day  before. 


92     A  Vacation  171  a  Buggy, 

'^  Washers  ?  "  said  we  in  chorus, 
looking  at  the  wheel,  and  not  seeing 
any  thing  amiss. 

"  The  leather  washers  that  go  in- 
side," said  he,  pitying  us.  "  They 
make  the  wheel  go  a  good  deal  stid- 
dier.  Guess  you  '11  find  that  wheel  '11 
wobble  a  sight.  The  others  are  all 
right." 

"  You  have  oiled  them,  then  ?  " 
said  my  friend  in  grateful  surprise. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  allers  do." 

We  gave  this  hostler  a  quarter  of 
a  dollar  for  information  concerning 
washers  and  for  alleged  oiling. 

Thus  far  we  had  not  passed  the 
night  at  any  place  which  we  had  pre- 
viously selected  on  the  route.  But 
it  made  no  difference  otherwise  than 
that  one  likes  occasionally  to  follow 
one's  plans.  We  had  intended  to 
remain  a  night  at  Chesterfield,  but 
as  we  reached  there  rather  early  in 
the  day,  coming  only  from  Worthing- 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog,        93 

ton,  we  did  not  stop  at  all,  save  now 
and  then  along  the  road,  to  look  off 
at  the  scenes  that  were  everywhere 
attractive.  This  is  a  grazing  town, 
and  it  is  as  still,  as  idyllic  in  its  aspect, 
as  should  be  a  place  where  cattle 
roam  over  the  high  fields.  We  had 
climbed  gradually  until  at  last  we 
were  on  that  altitude  where  the  vil- 
lage stands  in  air  that  I  should  think 
must  always  be  pure.  It  seemed  to 
be  stiller  here  even  than  it  had  been 
in  the  towns  we  had  just  left.  The 
songs  of  the  birds  came  more  plainly 
to  us,  and  the  soughing  murmur  of 
the  trees  was  more  audible.  At  least 
we  thought  so.  Here  would  be  an- 
other spot  where  the  world-weary 
man  might  get  away  from  time ;  a 
place  to  hide  in  and  let  the  days  go 
by  unnumbered,  while  the  air  and 
the  sky  and  this  delicious  spot  of 
earth  might  bring  healing  with  every 
moment. 


94     A  Vacation  in  a  Bicggy. 

We  felt  that  we  were  missing  a 
pleasure  in  not  stopping  in  Chester- 
field ;  still  we  tried  to  tell  ourselves 
it  would  be  just  as  pleasant  at 
Williamsburg.  But  it  was  not.  We 
dined  there,  hov/ever,  at  the  Hamp- 
shire House. 

At  dinner  my  friend  suddenly  sug- 
gested that  possibly  we  ''  might  have 
telegraphed  to  Hitty  Jane  instead." 
But  was  there  a  wire  ?  Judging 
from  the  general  appearance  of  those 
towns,  one  might  say  that  the  tele- 
graph had  not  yet  been  heard  of. 

From  Williamsburg  we  were 
tempted  to  try  a  stage  trip  to  Swift 
River,  or  to  Goshen,  but  we  resisted 
the  temptation  and  went  on  our  way 
to  Hatfield.  There  we  should  reach 
the  Connecticut  River,  the  fat  cattle, 
and  the  tobacco  fields.  At  least,  so 
the  guide-book  told  us.  Already  we 
have  proved  that  the  book  was  right 
as  far  as  the  river  is  concerned.     I 


Cousin  Emily  s  Dog,        95 

write  this  in  our  room  at  the  Hat- 
field House.  The  town  has  so  invit- 
ing a  look,  is  so  prosperous,  lying 
comfortably  on  its  river  intervale, 
that  we  feel  that  we  shall  not  leave 
early  on  the  morrow. 

At  supper,  a  lady  sitting  opposite 
us,  learning  that  we  had  come  from 
Chesterfield,  asked  if  we  had  picked 
up  any  choice  specimens  there. 
Thus,  with  humiliation,  we  learn  too 
late  that  Chesterfield  has  rare  min- 
erals, and  we  may  have  missed  an 
amethyst  or  a  ruby  as  a  trophy  of 
our  journey.  But  perhaps  these 
gems  are  not  picked  up  from  the 
highway. 


VII. 

"ARRER-HEADS?" 

Someone  has  said  that  ''  the  per- 
son who  cannot  be  happy  in  the 
Connecticut  Valley  cannot  be  happy 
anywhere." 

If  it  is  summer  and  there  is  a  blue 
sky  over  your  head,  and  you  are  wan- 
dering at  your  own  will  through  this 
valley,  you  are  not  disposed  to  think 
this  saying  extravagant.  When  you 
reach  this  queen  river  of  Massachu- 
setts, there  is  more  placidity  in  all 
the  views  which  catch  your  eyes. 
The  farms  are  richer,  and  every  thing 
tells  that  the  struggle  with  the  earth 
for  a  maintenance  is  not  such  a  hard 
fight  here  as  it  is  back  yonder  among 
the  hills  nearer  the  western  borders 


( i  Arrer -heads  f  "  97 

of  the  State.  No  wonder  the  cattle 
are  fat,  living  on  these  rich  meadows. 
It  must  be  a  very  obdurate  cow 
which  would  not  fatten,  feasting  all 
day  upon  such  verdure  as  stretches 
mile  after  mile  along  these  intervales. 
The  sight  of  the  vivid  green  grass  or 
of  the  dark  earth  upturned  for  to- 
bacco or  grain  crops  is  a  refreshment 
to  the  vision.  One  has  no  call  to 
pity  any  poverty-stricken  creature  in 
this  part  of  the  country.  The  air  of 
comfort  pervades  ever>^  thing. 

Hatfield  is  a  charming  village,  and 
is  prosperous  with  that  material  pros- 
perity which  does  not  give  a  hint  of 
the  sufferings  of  the  past.  Unlike  a 
great  many  towns  hereabouts  it  has 
a  past,  of  desperate  battles  and  ago- 
nies of  anxieties.  The  little  place  is 
now  at  peace  with  itself  and  all  the 
world,  and  I  imagine  it  is  only  the 
visitor  who  comes  as  we  have  come 
who  thinks  now  of  the  dreadful  days 


98     A  VacatioJi  in  a  Buggy, 

when  the  settlers  here  were  roused 
at  any  hour  by  Indian  yells.  The 
town  was  particularly  unfortunate. 
It  was  "  clear  grit  "  that  the  white 
men  must  have  had  which  enabled 
them  to  stay  here.  They  might 
have  been  pardoned  if  they  had 
given  up  every  thing  and  stolen 
away.  To  fight  a  foe  like  the  foe 
with  which  they  contended  was  a 
never-ending  war  against  cunning 
and  cruelty.  It  was  not  a  hand-to- 
hand  fight,  and  then  an  end  to  it. 
No  sleep,  no  rest ;  a  constant  watch 
with  the  finger  on  the  trigger.  The 
very  names  of  these  settlements 
along  the  valley  are  like  pictures  of 
those  old  times — Hatfield,  Deerfield. 
Do  not  you  remember,  in  the  old 
geographies  and  histories,  those  illus- 
trations where  the  women  and  chil- 
dren were  running  wildly  forth  from 
a  house  in  flames,  around  which  In- 
dians, with  tomahawks  in  their  hands, 


t  i  Arrer-heads  f  "  99 

were  waiting  to  scalp  their  victims  ? 
And  somewhere  in  the  background 
the  men  were  rushing  in  from  the 
fields  too  late  to  protect  their  fami- 
lies, but  not  too  late  to  die  with 
them.  I  recall  such  pictures,  and 
underneath  one  of  them  were  the 
words  "  Attack  on  Deerfield." 

Can  you  not  see  the  people,  led  by 
their  minister,  the  Rev.  John  Wil- 
liams, fighting  furiously  for  all  they 
held  dear  ?  And  that  time  they  suc- 
ceeded in  driving  back  the  enemy. 
There  is  a  penetrating  pathos  in  the 
old  tales  of  these  attacks  and  re- 
pulses, a  pathos  different  in  its  pow- 
er from  the  stories  of  other  conflicts. 
There  was  ^'  that  choice  company  of 
young  men,  the  very  flower  of  Essex 
County,"  who  met  such  woful  disas- 
ter at  Bloody  Brook.  Somewhere 
about  here  that  choice  company  lie, 
beneath  ground  deeply  wet  with 
blood.     How  can  we  imagine,  in  this 


loo  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

divine  summer  air,  that  day,  Febru- 
ary the  29th,  1704?  ''While  the 
watch  was  sleeping  " — fatal  sleep  ! — 
"  and  the  snow  had  drifted  over  the 
palisades,  two  hours  before  daylight, 
the  place  was  attacked  by  Major 
de  Rouville,  with  340  French  and 
Indians.  The  Avails  were  easily 
passed,  and  a  terrible  scene  of 
slaughter,  pillage,  and  conflagration 
ensued." 

There  was  one  house,  the  chroni- 
cle goes  on  to  say,  that  was  not 
burned.  Seven  men  were  in  it,  firing 
from  the  loopholes,  and  their  wives 
were  casting  bullets.  Somebody  es- 
caped and  ran  to  Hatfield,  for  this 
was  in  Deerfield.  A  company  from 
Hatfield  started  out,  but  they,  too, 
were  defeated  by  De  Rouville.  Was 
it  by  French  or  Indians  that  Mrs. 
Williams  was  murdered  in  Leyden 
Gorge  ?  It  was  her  daughter,  a  small 
child  then,  who  was  taken  captive, 


^^ Arrer-heads  f  "  i o i 

finally  married    an    Indian,  and   be- 
came in  truth  an  Indian  herself. 

These  are  dreadful  chronicles  to 
read,  but  these  are  some  of  the  things 
we  read  in  our  room  at  the  Hatfield 
House  the  night  we  arrived  here.  It 
was  in  the  ''  good  old  colony  times, 
when  we  were  under  the  king,"  that 
these  things  happened.  Looking 
again  over  these  pages  which  we  used 
to  study  with  such  horror  when  we 
were  children,  we  wonder  why  the 
colonists  were  not  wiped  from  off 
the  face  of  North  America.  Had 
these  people  in  New  England  been 
any  thing  save  hard-headed  Puritans 
they  must  have  succumbed.  But 
who  can  imagine  a  Puritan  yielding 
in  any  way  ?  Three  times  Hatfield 
was  attacked  ;  a  repulse  achieved 
cost  the  settlers  almost  as  much  as  a 
defeat.  They  could  ill  afford  to 
spare  a  single  man.  The  strength  of 
ten  must  have  been  in  each  right  arm. 


I02  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

A  bright-looking  girl  waited  upon 
us  in  our  room.  She  said  she  was 
born  in  the  village,  so  we  felt  that 
we  might  ask  her  if  there  were  any- 
Indian  relics  in  the  town. 

"  Ma'am  ?  "  said  she,  in  interroga- 
tive amazement. 

"  Indian  relics,"  I  repeated.  ''  You 
know,  the  savages  used  to  attack  the 
place  here." 

She  grinned  in  embarrassment. 
*'  I  guess  you  must  be  mistaken," 
she  said.  *'  I  never  heard  nothin* 
about  the  Indians.  Thought  there 
wa'n't  none  round." 

She  hurried  with  her  work,  anxious 
to  get  out  of  the  room. 

Was  this  girl  a  pupil  recently  of  the 
famous  New  England  schools  ?  We 
felt  too  much  deference  to  her  feelings 
to  make  that  inquiry.  £venifshehad 
sat  under  competent  teaching,  gram- 
mar and  history  seemed  to  have  rolled 
off  her  mind  with  unusual  facility. 


t  ^Arrer-heads  f  "  103 

In  the  morning  we  walked  about 
the  village  streets  and  strayed  over 
some  of  its  fields.  We  still  had  In- 
dian relics  upon  our  minds,  and  felt 
that  we  should  be  unfortunate  if  we 
could  not  find  even  one  arrow-head. 
We  went  so  far  as  to  climb  a  high 
fence  that  we  might  follow  along  in 
the  furrow  of  a  man  who  was  plough- 
ing with  a  pair  of  oxen  that  moved, 
if  possible,  with  more  than  the  aver- 
age slowness  of  oxen.  Did  we  not 
know  that  it  is  in  ploughing  that 
treasures  are  turned  up  to  the  light? 
Scores  of  people,  not  half  so  deserv- 
ing as  we  felt  ourselves  to  be,  had 
found,  in  a  hundred  places  in  New 
England,  tangible  signs  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Indian  here  200  years 
ago. 

The  man  was  far  ahead,  and  we 
hoped  he  might  not  notice  us.  But 
it  is  not  in  the  country  that  one  may 
reasonably   hope   that.     We  looked 


io/\.  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

eagerly,  poking  over  the  earth  with 
sticks.  The  process  was  as  interest- 
ing as  hunting  for  minerals.  There 
was  the  possibility  of  making  such 
an  important  "  find." 

It  was  hardly  a  minute  before  the 
farmer  had  stopped  his  oxen  and 
stood  gazing  absorbedly  at  us.  At 
last  he  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and 
came  walking  down  the  furrows 
towards  us.  He  was  so  tanned  that 
he  was  almost  of  the  color  of  the 
ground  he  walked  on.  He  had  a 
fringe  of  grizzled  beard  under  his 
chin  ;  a  face  in  which  shrewdness  and 
stolidity  were  curiously  blended. 

"  What  ye  lost  ?  "  he  asked,  a  great 
curiosity  in  his  voice  and  manner. 
We  told  him  what  we  wished  to  find, 
and  he  stared  harder  than  ever,  mak- 
ing a  slight  movement  away  from 
us  as  if  we  were  demented. 

*' Arrer-heads  ?  "  he  said  vaguely. 
"  What  on  earth  makes  ye  look  for 


^^  Arrer-heads  ?  "  105 

arrer-heads  here  ?  "  He  poked  the 
ground  with  the  handle  of  his  whip. 
*'  What  sort  of  things  be  they  ?  " 

Did  this  man  walk  these  historic 
fields  day  after  day  withot  knowing 
that  they  had  been  the  scenes  of 
fights  as  heroic  as  any  ever  fought  ? 
We  mentioned  the  subject  of  Indians 
to  him.  We  said  that  we  were 
strangers,  and  were  interested  in  the 
old  days  of  the  town. 

''  Oh,  land  ! "  he  exclaimed  in  un- 
disguised scorn.  ''  I  believe  I  have 
heard  there  used  to  be  redskins 
'bout  here,  but  they  ain't  of  no 
'count  nowadays.  If  you  find  any 
arrer-heads,  you  're  welcome  to  'em 
fur  's  I  'm  concerned." 

He  walked  away  to  his  oxen,  which 
were  ruminating  with  as  much  in- 
telHgence  as  occupied  the  mind  of 
their  master. 

We  felt  depressed.  We  almost 
began  to  think  that  there  never  had 


io6  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

been  any  Indians  here,  or  that  if 
there  had  been,  it  was  very  singular 
in  us  to  remember  it.  We  discon- 
tinued our  search  for  relics,  and 
went  down  to  the  ferry  which  takes 
one  to  North  Hadley.  Mount  War- 
ner rose  up  close  to  us,  tempting  us 
to  climb  it.  Is  there  a  spot  on  the 
Connecticut  River  as  it  runs  through 
Massachusetts  that  is  not  lovely  ?  It 
is  a  stream  of  winning  beauty  for 
many  a  score  of  miles.  Having 
crossed  and  recrossed  the  river  with- 
out having  landed  at  Hadley,  we 
drove  out  that  afternoon  and  went 
up  Horse  Mountain,  which  lies  some- 
what to  the  west  of  the  town,  and 
from  there  we  overlooked  much  of 
the  rich,  extensive  vale  wherein  lie 
many  villages — Amherst,  Northamp- 
ton, the  Hadleys,  and  more  whose 
names  we  did  not  then  know.  Sugar- 
Loaf  Mountain,  not  far  away,  is  said 
to  be  the  place  from  which  the  best 


i  i^  rrer -heads  f  *  107 

views  of  the  country  can  be  had. 
Every  thing  was  attractive.  Here 
was  the  charm  of  prosperous  cultiva- 
tion everywhere,  with  the  river  Hke 
a  constant  benediction.  It  was  a 
good  place  in  which  to  sentimentalize, 
and  we  had  been  so  balked  in  the 
matter  of  "  arrer-heads  "  that  we  felt 
that  we  needed  some  consolation  in 
the  shape  of  poetry ;  thus  we  fell  to 
quoting,  as  we  gazed  from  this  point 
and  that  on  the  mountain.  I  wonder 
why  it  is  that  a  little  reciting  of  more 
or  less  appropriate  verses  is  such  a 
pleasure  to  the  soul  at  a  time  like 
this.  It  was  a  satisfaction  to  me  to 
be  able  to  murmur  to  myself : 

"  I  know  the  shaggy  hills  about 
The  meadows  smooth  and  wide  ; 
The  plains  that  toward  a  Southern  sky, 
Fenced  east  and  west  by  mountains,  lie." 

My  friend  listened  to  me  with  as 
much  interest  as  one  can  assume  who 
is  waiting  to  recite  a  few  lines  her- 


io8  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

self.  Of  course  one  likes  one's  own 
quotations  best,  and  she  had  Words- 
worth ready  the  moment  I  should 
cease. 

"  Oh,  what  a  joy  it  were,  in  vigorous  health, 
To  roam  at  large  among  unpeopled  glens 
And  mountainous  retirements,  only  trod 
By  devious  footsteps  ;  regions  consecrate 
To  oldest  time  !  " 

Then  we  began  to  descend  the 
hill,  conscious  of  an  appetite  for  our 
supper,  and  planning  a  very  early 
start  for  the  morning. 


VIII. 

A  USEFUL  BOY. 

"  If  there  is  any  thing  I  despise, 
it  is  that  kind  of  an  animal  popularly 
known  as  '  a  woman's  horse.'  " 

Thus  my  friend,  as  we  drove  away 
from  the  Connecticut  River  at  six 
o'clock  of  a  morning  that  promised 
to  be  scorchingly  hot  when  the  sun 
should  be  higher.  Even  now  there 
was  a  great  deal  of  power  in  the  rays 
that  came  level  in  our  faces  from  the 
east. 

This  remark  was  prompted  by  the 
words  of  the  landlord  as  we  stepped 
into  our  buggy  in  front  of  the  Hat- 
field House.  The  landlord  confided 
to  us  the  fact  that  sorrel  horses  were 
mighty   apt   to    be    unreliable,    and 


no  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

there  was  a  spark  in  this  one's  eye 
that  made  him  doubt  if  't  was  a 
woman's  horse ;  meaning  by  this 
that  our  steed  appeared  to  have 
more  spirit  than  a  sheep  and  more 
speed  than  an  ox.  He  went  on  to 
say  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  real 
burner,  and  when  we  got  to  Amherst 
he  advised  us  to  get  a  sponge,  wet 
it,  and  fasten  it  on  top  of  the  horse's 
head,  between  his  ears.  We  went 
onward  somewhat  conscience-smit- 
ten. This  was  the  second  time  we 
had  been  told  to  get  a  sponge.  We 
did  not  wait  until  we  reached  Am- 
herst, about  six  miles  away.  We 
bought  a  sponge  in  Hatfield,  and  as 
soon  as  we  were  well  out  of  the  town 
we  stopped  at  a  spring,  saturated  the 
sponge,  and  essayed  to  place  it  on 
top  of  the  horse's  head,  exactly  be- 
tween his  ears.  A  great  deal  of 
water  ran  under  my  sleeves  and 
along  my  arms,  and  the  sponge  fell 


A  Useful  Boy.  1 1 1 

into  the  road  and  was  covered  with 
sand. 

"  We  seem  to  need  a  cord,  or 
something,"  my  friend  said,  rinsing 
our  purchase  in  the  spring. 

**  Also,"  I  repHed,  *'  we  need  a  lit- 
tle of  that  gift  which  some  one  has 
called  *  gumption.'  " 

There  was  a  white  string  around  a 
paper  bag  of  lemons  on  the  floor  of 
the  buggy.  We  appropriated  this 
string,  and  after  a  great  deal  of 
reaching  and  struggling  and  dripping 
of  water,  we  fastened  the  sponge  in 
the  proper  place.  Then  we  drove 
on  for  half  a  mile  before  the  sponge 
escaped  from  its  bandages,  and  hung 
bobbing  down  over  the  horse's  right 
eye.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to  en- 
joy scenery  in  this  way,  and  we 
knew  the  scenery  here  was  such  as 
should  be  enjoyed.  It  was  growing 
hot  now  so  rapidly  that,  having  pro- 
cured  this  means  of  reHef   for  the 


112^  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

horse,  we  dared  not  give  it  up.  We 
stopped  again  and  alighted,  still 
damp  from  our  last  attempt.  When 
we  were  told  to  do  this  thing,  it 
seemed  a  perfectly  easy  thing  to  do. 
Now  that  I  tried  to  get  the  sponge 
off  from  where  it  hung,  I  found  it 
was  so  secure  that  the  process  re- 
quired a  penknife.  Such  is  the  de- 
pravity of  inanimate  things.  We 
wondered  if  there  were  bridles  made 
with  a  view  towards  sponges  ;  if 
there  were,  it  would  be  our  duty  to 
possess  one.  So  absorbed  were  we 
in  this  second  endeavor,  that  we  were 
quite  startled  by  a  voice  which  asked  : 
"  What  ye  trying  to  do  now  ?  " 
A  half-grown  boy  in  blue  overalls 
and  shirt  was  standing  behind  us, 
the  other  side  of  the  wall.  He  had  a 
covered  tin  pail  in  one  hand  and 
a  fishing-rod  over  his  shoulder.  We 
seemed  to  amuse  him  and  to  excite 
his  pity. 


A  Useful  Boy,  1 1 3 

"  What  should  you  think  we  are 
trying  to  do  ?  "  I  asked,  crossly. 

''  I  dunno's  I  could  make  a  guess," 
he  answered,  setting  down  his  pail, 
and  leaning  his  rod  on  the  wall.  He 
put  one  hand  on  the  top  of  the  wall 
and  jumped  over.  *^  Jest  let  me  have 
a  try  at  it,"  he  said. 

We  sat  down  on  rocks,  panting 
and  perspiring.  As  we  watched  this 
youth,  I  believe  we  were  both  guilty 
of  the  sin  of  envy.  With  two  or  three 
turns  he  unbuckled  the  throat-lash, 
lifted  the  bridle,  placed  the  sponge 
under  the  upper  part  of  it,  drew  the 
leather  straps  carefully  down,  and 
then  refastened  the  buckle.  There  was 
the  sponge  looking  as  if  it  never  would 
loosen,  and  in  exactly  the  right  spot. 

"  That  is  because  you  are  a  boy!  " 
cried  my  friend,  while  we  both  gazed 
in  undisguised  admiration  at  our  de- 
liverer, who  responded  by  a  smile 
which  gradually  became  a  laugh. 


11/^  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

"  Tain't  no  great  to  do,"  he  said. 

"  No  great,  perhaps,  but  enough," 
I  replied  fervently.  "  Name  your 
reward." 

There  was  a  something  in  the  boy's 
face  which  showed  intellect  and  ap- 
preciation. We  had  learned  that  to 
talk  as  he  did  was  sometimes  a  sign 
of  carelessness  rather  than  a  lack  of 
knowledge.  My  friend  put  her  hand 
hesitatingly  in  her  pocket.  She  was 
not  sure  that  she  ought  to  offer  the 
boy  money.  He  flushed  up  beneath 
his  tan,  and  said  quickly  : 

"  Oh,  don't  give  me  money.  I 
guess  I  can  do  a  hand's  turn  for  any- 
body without  a  few  coppers  for  it. 
But  I  guess  I  '11  name  my  reward," 
glancing  at  me  comically.  "  Be  you 
goin'  Amherst  way  ?  Wall,  then,  it  's 
so  almighty  hot,  mebbe  you  'd  let 
me  squeeze  into  yer  buggy  till  we 
come  to  the  corner  up  there.  I  '11 
set  right  down  front."     We  let  him 


A  Useful  Boy,  115 

squeeze  into  the  buggy.  Boy  fash- 
ion, he  hung  his  tin  pail  on  one 
of  the  steps,  and  he  rested  his  fish- 
ing-rod over  the  dash-board.  He 
said  there  was  a  particular  brook 
that  he  had  n't  tried  this  year,  and  if 
he  did  n't  go  there  before  the  thick 
of  the  haying,  he  never  should  go  ; 
that  was  the  amount  of  it.  He  meant 
to  stay  all  day  if  he  was  n't  eat  up 
by  the  'skeeters,  and  he  meant  to 
have  a  tarnation  good  fish  supper 
when  he  got  home.  He  informed 
us  that  the  tin  pail  held  two  kinds 
of  lunch,  one  kind  for  him  and  one 
for  the  fishes.  His  was  doughnuts 
and  theirs  was  worms,  and  he  guessed 
most  likely  they  was  wrigglin'  some. 
At  this  we  shuddered,  and  asked  him 
if  he  had  the  worms  in  the  same  pail 
with  the  doughnuts. 

"  Oh  Lor',  yes,"  he  answered  com- 
placently. "  Don't  do  no  harm  ; 
they  have  different  compartments. 
They  are  all  right,  you  bet." 


ii6  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

He  stooped  over  and  swung  his 
pail  up  from  where  it  hung,  opened 
it  and  showed  a  baking-powder  tin- 
box  tightly  closed.  "  That  's  where 
the  wrigglin  's  goin'  on,"  he  said, 
"  Want  to  see  'em  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !  " 

''  Have  a  doughnut  ?  They  are 
prime." 

We  decline,  and  he  rehung  his 
pail,  remarking  that  women  were  the 
queerest  things  in  the  world. 

"  They  are  not  half  as  queer  as 
boys,"  I  said  with  emphasis. 

He  did  not  reply  for  some  time, 
occupying  himself  by  carefully  re- 
moving the  flies  from  the  horse  with 
his  rod.     Finally  he  said  : 

^*  Yes,  they  be,  a  million  times 
queerer." 

''How?" 

'*  Wall,  for  one  thing,  there  ain't  a 
boy  on  earth  that  would  have  tied 
a  sponge   onto  a   horse's  ear.     He 


A  Useftd  Boy.  117 

might  have  tied  it  onto  his  tail,  but 
not  his  ear." 

"  But  we  did  not  mean  to  do 
that." 

"  I  saw  ye  a  comin'/'  he  went  on, 
*'  the  sponge  a  bobbin',  and  the  horse 
naturally  as  mad  as  thunder.  He  'd 
'a'  kicked  up  in  another  rod.  Don't 
look  like  a  woman's  horse,  some- 
how." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  my  friend ; 
"  that  was  the  one  thing  we  did 
not  intend  he  should  look  like." 

"  I  guess  you  '11  have  a  smash-up 
before  you  get  through  with  him.  I 
s'pose  you  're  out  on  a  trip  for  scen- 
ery, ain't  ye  ?" 

*'  Yes,  we  are  in  pursuit  of  scenery." 
The  boy's  gray  eyes  wandered  over 
the  prospect,  and  I  watched  the  look 
of  love  come  in  his  brown  face. 

"  I  don't  find  no  fault  with  it  about 
here,"  he  said.  '*  I  don't  think  I 
could  get    along  without  hills   and 


iiS  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

streams  and  ponds.  Wonder  how  it 
all  looked  when  the  Indians  was 
round." 

Upon  this  we  started  eagerly  on 
the  subject  of  the  redskins.  The  boy 
knew  all  that  we  knew,  and  a  great 
deal  more.  He  had  devoured  every 
page  of  all  the  histories  of  the  early 
days  of  the  colonies.  He  grew  ex- 
cited, and  was  carried  a  half-mile 
past  his  corner.  He  said  he  had 
found  seven  arrow-heads  on  his  fath- 
er's farm  at  different  times,  when  he 
had  been  ploughing.  If  we  would 
tell  him  how  to  direct,  he  would  send 
us  one  by  mail.  It  was  with  regret 
that  we  parted  from  him,  when  he 
suddenly  recollected  how  far  he  had 
been  carried.  Half-way  across  a  field 
he  turned  and  waved  his  tin  pail  at 
us.  Now  will  he  send  the  arrow- 
head ?     I  believe  he  will. 

In  half  an  hour  we  reached  Am- 
herst, an  attractive  village  even  with- 


A  Useful  Boy,  119 

out  its  college.  Here  we  were  to 
spend  a  few  hours  of  the  greatest 
heat,  then  start  in  time  to  reach 
Ware  at  night. 

The  academic  towns  of  America 
have  a  charm  peculiarly  their  own, 
and  Amherst  is  not  an  excep- 
tion. Even  to  a  stranger,  who  sim- 
ply drives  through  its  streets  and 
rests  a  while  at  its  inn,  there  is  some- 
thing which  reveals  that  there  is 
more  refinement  here  than  in  those 
comfortable  and  somewhat  rustic 
towns  through  which  we  have  passed. 
It  is  an  irreproachable  spot  for  a  col- 
lege, a  lovely  place  for  the  home  of 
a  youth's  ahna  mater ^  and  one  which 
would  linger  as  a  joy  in  his  memory. 
We  passed  by  the  hill  on  the  out- 
skirts of  the  village,  where  the  col- 
lege buildings  are  situated,  noting 
particularly  that  octagonal,  strange- 
looking  structure  which  has  a  dome 
of  a  vivid  blue  color,  like  something 


I20  ^  Vacatio7i  in  a  Buggy. 

builded  beneath  a  tropical  sky,  rath- 
er than  where  a  New  England  winter 
may  howl  about  it.  It  stands  boldly 
ahead  of  the  other  buildings,  and 
immediately  draws  the  eye.  We 
learned  that  it  contains  the  valuable 
collections  for  which  Amherst  is 
famous  throughout  the  country. 
We  are  instructed  that  these  collec- 
tions "  are  only  surpassed  by  those 
of  the  British  Museum  and  the  Im- 
perial Cabinet  at  Vienna."  We 
wanted  to  see  the  immense  ruby 
that  is  ''  two  feet  high  and  one  foot 
in  diameter,"  and  beHeved  that  a 
a  ruby  like  that  could  hardly  affect 
us  as  a  jewel,  but  only  as  a  mon- 
strosity. And  what  must  a  sapphire 
of  thirty  pounds'  weight  be  ? 

But  how  could  we  stay  in  the  town 
long  enough  to  gaze  upon  these 
things,  though  we  should  be  given 
permission  so  to  do  ?  We  must 
harden  our  hearts,  and  content  our- 


A  Use/id  Boy.  1 2 1 

selves  with  walking  about  the  place, 
if  the  heat  did  not  destroy  us  in  the 
act.  So  we  left  the  horse  at  the 
Amherst  House,  and  went  out  under 
a  big  umbrella.  We  had,  however, 
decided  that  not  all  the  colleges  in 
the  world  would  tempt  us  to  walk  a 
quarter  of  a  mile,  and  were  turning 
back  to  seek  inglorious  ease  at  our 
inn,  when,  with  all  the  suddenness 
that  is  so  characteristic  of  our  cli- 
mate, the  wind  whisked  into  the  east, 
a  film  spread  over  the  sky,  and  we 
should  have  been  thankful  for  the 
ulsters  we  had  left  at  the  hotel.  At 
the  shore  this  was  an  ^'  east  turn," 
here  it  was  none  the  less  refreshing. 
Instead  of  being  languid  and  without 
energy,  we  now  felt  capable  of  a  five- 
mile  walk.  So  it  came  about  that 
we  rambled  for  two  hours  around  the 
town,  giving  most  of  our  attention 
to  that  part  where  the  college  is 
located,  but  not  entering  anywhere. 


12  2  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

The  Memorial  Chapel  is  a  beautiful 
building,  its  stone  walls  and  lovely 
spire  rising  from  the  green  grass  in 
the  midst  of  which  it  stands,  and 
commanding  a  view  of  the  enchant- 
ing vale  below  it.  We  wished  we 
might  go  to  the  top  of  the  college 
to\ver,  and  look  out  over  the  scene 
which  must  be  visible  from  there. 
We  could  imagine  the  picture  wait- 
ing to  be  gazed  upon,  with  the  river 
sweeping  away  towards  the  south. 

The  Agricultural  College  we  did 
not  see,  save  from  a  distance ;  and  if 
we  saw  any  of  the  "  Aggies,"  we 
could  not  distinguish  them  from 
other  students. 

We  were  told  of  a  great  many 
excursions  which  it  is  proper  and 
customary  to  make  from  Amherst, 
but  we  felt  that  we  had  taken  up  too 
much  time  already.  Still,  the  latter 
part  of  our  journey  we  expected  to 
be  the  least  interesting,  and  then  we 


A  Useful  Boy.  123 

intended  to  make  our  thirty  miles  a 
day.  So  we  resolutely  turned  our 
backs  on  trips  to  Mount  Holyoke, 
and  Mounts  Tom  and  Norwottuck. 
We  might  have  driven  up  Mount 
Toby,  for  there  is  a  carriage  road  to 
the  top.  But  we  could  not  go  up  all 
the  hills,  though  Paradise  might  be 
viewed  from  them.  So,  at  a  little 
after  two,  we  went  forth  on  the  road 
towards  Ware,  this  time  with  wraps 
fastened  closely,  and  with  no  sponge 
on  the  horse's  head. 


IX. 

TRUST  NOT  A  PINE  BOUGH. 

Dame  Nature  once,  while  making  land, 
Had  refuse  left  of  stone  and  sand  ; 
She  viewed  it  well,  then  threw  it  down 
Between  Coy's  Hill  and  Belchertown, 
And  said,  "  You  paltry  stuff,  lie  there, 
And  make  a  town  and  call  it  Ware." 

It  was  this  town  that  we  entered 
after  a  long  afternoon's  drive  from 
Amherst,  the  wind  still  cool  in  our 
faces  from  the  east.  We  had  been 
through  Belchertown  village,  being 
told  that  we  should  find  better  roads 
than  by  keeping  in  a  more  direct  line 
further  to  the  north,  through  corners 
of  Pelham  and  Enfield.  We  found 
that  one  of  our  New  England  guide- 
books calls  Pelham  a  ''mountain 
hamlet."      This     brief     description 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bough,   1 2  5 

made  us  wish  to  turn  into  that  road 
which  we  passed  at  our  left,  where 
was  a  guide-board  directing  to  Pel- 
ham.  Our  appetite  for  mountain 
hamlets  is  insatiable,  but  the  time 
had  come  when  we  must  cease  to 
gratify  it  by  going  from  our  regular 
route,  which  curved  now  downward 
towards  the  northeast  corner  of  the 
Rhode  Island  State  line.  Already 
we  saw  before  us  the  end  of  the 
journey,  which  seemed  to  have  lasted 
far  longer  than  it  really  had.  Very 
soon  now  we  should  not  rise  in  the 
morning,  look  at  our  much-bat- 
tered map  of  Massachusetts,  and 
decide  what  towns  we  should  tra- 
verse that  day  to  reach  a  given  point. 
It  had  certainly  been  great  fun. 
Well,  it  was  not  over  yet,  and  we 
would  make  the  most  of  it  as  long  as 
it  lasted. 

Our    horse,    instead    of    seeming 
more  weary  than  when  he  started, 


126  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

appeared  now  to  have  a  premonition 
that  he  was  getting  toward  home. 
He  could  scent  out  a  railway  crossing 
with  even  more  than  his  usual  keen- 
ness, and  showed  more  than  ever  that 
he  was  not  "  a  woman's  horse."  We 
were  always  obliged  to  exercise  a 
great  deal  of  care  when  approaching 
a  railway;  for,  in  spite  of  all  disci- 
pline, he  continued  to  be  afraid  of 
every  thing  which  reminded  him  of 
steam-cars.  Knowing  this  weakness, 
we  had  been  able  to  manage  him 
very  well  thus  far. 

Having  taken  our  room  at  the 
Hampshire  House,  we  proceeded  to 
"  cram  "  about  Ware,  as  is  our  cus- 
tom when  we  arrived  at  a  place.  Of 
course  we  knew  it  would  be  far  better 
to  read  and  assimilate  every  thing 
about  every  thing  before  we  start  on 
a  trip  like  this.  But  our  way  is 
easier,  and  is  far  less  of  a  strain  on 
the  intellectual  faculties.     Not  that 


Trust  not  a  Pi7ie  Bough.    127 

I  am  recommending  this  slipshod 
manner  of  acquiring  information. 
We  found  in  the  book  about  Ware, 
which  a  lady  in  the  hotel  loaned  us, 
that  this  territory  was  granted  to  a 
band  of  the  old  soldiers  of  King 
Philip's  war.  I  wonder  if  they  con- 
gratulated themselves  on  possessing 
this  charming  tract  of  land  on  the 
river  which  wanders  by  it,  and  near 
the  bold  hills  which  make  Ware  very 
picturesque.  If  they  did  call  them- 
selves lucky,  that  feeling  was  of  very 
short  continuance  ;  for  the  rhymes  at 
the  head  of  this  chapter  are  really 
descriptive  of  the  soil.  New  Eng- 
land is  not  famous  for  its  rich  soil, 
and  ''  her  only  mines  are  ice  and 
stone."  But  Ware  is  worse  than  all 
the  rest.  The  King  Philip  veterans 
were  mightily  disappointed  when 
they  discovered  that  it  was  useless 
to  spend  their  time  and  strength  in 
trying  to  work  this  land.     So  they 


128  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

sold  it,  and  they  did  not  get  a  very- 
good  price  for  it,  either:  two  cents 
an  acre.  We  did  not  learn  who  were 
the  purchasers,  nor  what  they  thought 
of  their  bargain. 

However,  the  town  looks  flourish- 
ing now,  has  between  four  and  five 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  is  absorbed 
in  the  manufacture  of  cotton  and 
woollen  goods. 

When  we  drove  into  the  village  it 
was  six  o'clock,  and  the  road  was 
swarming  with  dingy,  ill-looking 
operatives,  who  were  just  through 
with  their  day's  work.  I  do  not 
know  how  it  is  here,  but  in  most  of 
these  factory  towns  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  workers  are  *'  Kanucks," 
and  are  not  of  a  high  grade  mentally 
or  morally.  In  what  we  call  ''  shoe 
towns "  it  is  very  different ;  as  a 
class  the  laborers  on  boots  and  shoes 
are  New  England  people,  or  Irish 
who  have  become  much  American- 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bough.   129 

ized.  Moreover,  it  really  seems  as  if 
the  work  in  mills  like  these  takes 
from  the  artisan  a  certain  self-respect. 
But  this  may  be  all  a  fancy. 

Starting  from  Ware  the  next  morn- 
ing and  going  on  towards  Brookfield, 
we  were  again  impressed  with  the 
fact  that  our  ways  were  fast  losing 
their  picturesqueness,  though  all  the 
country  in  central  Massachusetts  is 
restful  to  the  eyes.  The  hills  are 
smoother  and  lower ;  the  vales  less 
abrupt,  and  more  comfortable  and 
available  for  the  settlements  which 
cover  them.  The  roads  are  wider, 
and  do  not  have  to  wind  and  twist, 
to  escape  climbing  rugged  moun- 
tains. We  can  drive  more  rapidly, 
and  are  also  not  impelled  to  stop  at 
every  turn  and  gaze  about  us.  We 
shall  surely  do  our  thirty  miles  now, 
without  too  much  temptation  to 
linger. 

Brookfield   is  a   shoe-manufactur- 


130  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

ing  place,  and  a  farming  town  also. 
Here  again  we  are  on  ground  made 
historic  by  Indian  attacks  and  re- 
pulses. Here  is  where  the  white 
settlers  gathered  in  the  garrison- 
house  and  defended  themselves  for 
three  horrible  days  against  assaults 
by  shot  and  flaming  arrows.  Finally 
the  Indians  put  bundles  of  straw  and 
flax  against  the  walls  and  set  fire  to 
them.  Then,  to  the  superstitious 
horror  of  the  savages,  there  came  a 
violent  shower  and  extinguished  the 
flames.  These  strangers  must  be 
under  the  protection  of  the  Great 
Spirit,  they  said.  When  the  rain 
was  over,  a  body  of  horsemen  came 
from  Lancaster  to  the  rescue,  and 
the  Indians  fled.  But  Brookfield 
was  not  lucky  in  those  days.  A 
**  military  necessity  "  made  the  Leg- 
islature order  the  town  to  be  de- 
serted. This  was  in  1676.  For  half 
a  score  of  years  or  more  the  terri- 


Trust  not  a  Puie  Bough.   131 

tory  was  left  waste  and  uninhabited. 
There  is  a  pond  here  called  Quaboag, 
which  flows  into  the  Chicopee  River 
by  the  stream  named  the  Sashaway. 
This  is  a  pleasing  memory  of  Indians 
who  were  not  pleasing  in  the  flesh. 

We  dined  in  Brookfield  and  rested 
for  a  couple  of  hours.  I  do  not 
know  whether  the  oats  and  hay  of 
this  place  are  peculiarly  stimulating, 
but  true  it  is  that  the  horse  held  his 
head  uncommonly  high  when  he 
started  out,  and  gave  us  to  understand 
that  if  he  should  really  feel  a  desire 
to  frisk,  he  should,  notwithstanding 
our  efforts,  yield  to  that  desire.  But 
we  crossed  a  railway  track  in  safety, 
though  we  were  twitched  over  very 
spitefully,  and  then  taken  along  for 
half  a  mile  at  a  tremendous  rate,  as 
if  the  animal  despised  himself  for 
having  consented  to  cross. 

"  If  we  can  only  get  home  without 
an   accident!"  cried   my  friend,  as 


132  A  Vacatio7i  in  a  Buggy, 

she  clung  to  the  side  of  the  carriage, 
which  bounded  along  uncomfortably. 
Then,  when  our  pace  was  more  se- 
date, she  explained  that  it  was  n't 
that  she  cared  particularly  about  a 
smashed-up  carriage,  and  wounds, 
and  broken  bones,  but  that  then  she 
should  hear  every  one  of  her  acquain- 
tances say  "  I  told  you  so,"  and  she 
felt  that  she  could  not  bear  that. 
For  when  we  had  proposed  coming 
down  from  Catskill  in  this  manner, 
and  had  requested  this  horse  and 
carriage  to  be  sent  out  to  us,  we 
were  assailed  by  a  flight  of  letters, 
each  one  picturing  the  impropriety, 
the  danger,  the  general  insanity  of 
our  plan.  To  all  of  which  we  replied 
briefly  that  we  wanted  the  turnout 
sent.  In  response  to  this  there  came 
another  flight  of  missives  represent- 
ing that  the  horse  was  not  a  woman's 
horse,  and  would  be  sure  to  do  some- 
thing   terrible    before    we    reached 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bo7igh.    133 

home  with  it.  If  we  must  have  a 
horse  at  all,  it  was  believed,  with 
singular  unanimity  by  all  our  friends, 
that  Deacon  Langley's  horse  was 
exactly  the  thing  v/e  wanted.  If  we 
would  only  consent  to  have  that, 
they  should  rest  easy.  The  beast 
thus  referred  to  was  a  big  mare,  with 
thick  legs  and  an  enormous  abdo- 
men— an  animal  which  looked  at 
you  with  stolid  eyes,  and  w^hich  had 
to  be  lashed  persistently  if  ever  you 
wanted  it  to  go  beyond  a  foot's  pace. 
She  was  considered  perfectly  safe, 
and  I  think  she  was. 

"  It  is  evident,"  I  said,  as  we  pe- 
rused these  remonstrances  in  Catskill 
— "■  it  is  evident  that  people  do  not 
wish  us  to  reach  home,  since  they 
advise  Deacon  Langley's  mare  as  a 
means  cf  locomotion.  Do  they  think 
nothing  of  the  expense  of  whips, 
and  of  nervous  and  muscular  force? 
And  how  many  nights  should  we  be 


134  ^  Vacation  hi  a  Buggy, 

at  hotels?     And  think  of  our  tem- 
pers! " 

I  spoke  the  truth.  I  had  driven 
our  sorrel  hundreds  of  miles ;  I  was 
acquainted  with  him.  He  was  nerv- 
ous, and  was  afraid  of  certain  things. 
He  was  not,  like  most  horses  adver- 
tised, able  to  stand  in  front  of  a  pile- 
driver  unmoved.  But  he  was  well 
built,  he  had  a  deep  chest,  and  clean 
legs,  and  eyes  that  were  gentle,  but 
which  had  a  hint  of  fire  in  them. 
This  animal  travelled  with  an  easy 
swing,  and  telegraphed  through  the 
reins  to  you  that  he  could  hurry  if 
you  desired  him  to  do  so.  This  was 
the  horse  which  everybody  said  we 
should  not  have,  and  I  prided  my- 
self on  being  able  to  drive  full  as 
well  as  the  ordinary  man.  Indeed,  I 
had  frequently  had  the  hardihood  to 
say  that  I  did  not  see  why  the  mere 
fact  of  being  a  man  should  consti- 
tute a  qualification  as  driver. 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bottgh,  135 

"  We  will  not  correspond  any 
longer  on  this  subject,"  said  my 
friend  at  last.  "  We  have  n't  the 
time  nor  the  amiability  to  do  so. 
We  will  now  send  telegrams  until  we 
hear  that  the  horse  has  started." 

We  did  so.  This  is  the  despatch 
that  we  composed  for  use  until  effec- 
tual :  ''  Send  sorrel  and  buggy  im- 
mediately." 

We  decided  that  we  should  wire 
this,  morning  and  afternoon,  until 
we  heard  that  it  had  been  obeyed. 
We  sent  it  three  times,  when  we  re- 
ceived this  message : 

"  Stop  telegraphing.  Sorrel  and 
buggy  shipped  ten  minutes  ago." 

When  we  read  those  words  we 
smiled  as  those  smile  who  conquer. 
Then  we  turned  amiable  and  wrote 
very  sweet  letters  home,  assuring 
every  one  that  in  our  hands  the  sor- 
rel was  a  veritable  lamb,  and  that  no 
human  beings  had  ever  been  so  care- 


12,6  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

ful  as  we  should  be  ;  also,  that  if 
they  had  forced  Deacon  Langley's 
mare  upon  us,  we  would  have  died 
rather  than  attempt  to  drive  it  home. 
All  this  came  back  to  us  when  the 
carriage  was  reeling  behind  our  steed, 
which  was  trotting  in  that  kind  of 
way  which  sometimes  precedes  a  run. 
But  the  road  was  straight  and  smooth 
before  us,  and,  after  a  little  sprint 
and  some  gentle  words  from  our  lips, 
and  firm  pulling  from  our  hands,  the 
sorrel  began  to  subside.  Fortunately 
neither  of  us  is  alarmed  easily  when 
on  the  road.  Still,  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  horse's  manner  which 
made  us  think  we  should  do  well  to 
look  out  for  him.  We  were  but  a 
very  short  time  going  from  Brook- 
field  to  Spencer.  Elias  Howe,  of 
sewing-machine  fame,  was  born  in 
Spencer.  This  fact  seems  about  all 
we  remember  concerning  the  town. 
It  is  probable  that  we  were  too  much 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bough,   137 

absorbed  with  our  horse  to  take  much 
notice,  save  to  perceive  that  the 
village  looked  prosperous.  On  to 
Leicester,  and  still  nothing  hap- 
pened ;  but  we  continued  to  feel  a 
sense  of  thunder  in  the  air  as  re- 
garded the  horse.  Leicester  is  a  very- 
attractive  town  on  Strawberry  Hill. 
It  was  so  attractive,  and  the  day  was 
getting  so  warm,  that  a  short  distance 
from  the  village,  on  a  lovely  bit  of 
sloping  ground,  shaded  by  a  group 
of  pine  trees,  we  decided  to  halt, 
take  out  the  horse,  and  have  a  long 
rest,  being  sure  that  we  could  reach 
Worcester  before  dark. 

It  was  at  this  place  that  something 
did  happen.  When  I  relate  what  it 
was  that  occurred,  I  am  sure  you  will 
agree  with  us  in  the  belief  that  the 
horse  used  the  utmost  consideration 
towards  us.  It  is  not  every  animal 
that  would  wait  until — but  let  me 
tell  exactly  what  took  place. 


138  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

We  did  no  more  nor  less  than  what 
we  had  done  before  on  this  journey, 
save  and  except  in  connection  with 
the  newspaper.  The  horse  was  quite 
heated,  for  he  had  come  rather  fast 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  way.  We 
took  off  his  harness  and  put  the 
hitch-rope  about  his  neck,  fastening 
the  other  end  of  the  rope  to  a  branch 
of  pine.  Then  we  sat  down  near  on 
the  fragrant  pine  needles,  doffed  our 
hats,  and  began  to  be  refreshed  by 
the  sweet  breeze  and  by  the  valley 
before  us.  We  partook  of  a  few 
small  and  very  dry  cakes,  and  wished 
that  we  had  a  cool  drink  to  make  us 
forget  how  poor  the  cakes  had  been. 
When  the  sorrel  had  dried  somewhat, 
we  brought  forth  his  luncheon. 
Though  we  hoped  he  would  be  fed 
in  the  stable  in  Worcester,  where  he 
would  pass  the  night,  we  could  never 
know  whether  hostlers  really  did  as 
they  said  they  would  do.     They  as- 


Trust  not  a  Pine  Bough.   139 

severated  overmuch.  We  always  had 
a  small  bag  of  oats  in  the  back  of  the 
buggy.  We  had  also  once  had  an 
old  tin  pan,  which  had  served  as 
feeding-box,  but  this  pan  had  come 
to  irreparable  grief  the  last  time  we 
used  it,  the  horse  stepping  in  it,  and 
taking  out  the  bottom  of  it. 

In  Brookfield  we  had  bought  a 
copy  of  TJie  Evening  Post ;  we  had 
read  it,  and  there  it  was  lying  folded 
on  the  seat.  Could  it  be  that  our 
after  misfortunes  were  the  natural 
consequences  of  putting  an  Evening 
Post  to  such  a  use  ?  Certainly  we  shall 
never  use  any  copy  of  that  paper  for 
a  feed-box  again. 

This  is  an  appropriate  place  in 
which  to  say  when  you  take  the 
harness  from  a  horse,  hitch  him  in 
the  open  air  and  feed  him  from  a 
newspaper,  it  is  far  better  to  use  a 
head-stall  than  a  rope  about  the 
neck.       The    rope     gives    a    much 


140  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

greater  sense  of  freedom  to  the  ani- 
mal. A  little  observation  will  show 
you  this. 

There  was  an  indescribable  alert- 
ness about  the  sorrel  as  he  stood 
there.  But  he  was  eager  for  his  oats. 
He  had  eaten  half  of  them  when  a 
breeze  whisked  up  a  corner  of  the 
paper  into  his  left  eye.  He  snorted 
and  jumped  back  sharply ;  as  he 
jumped,  the  pine  bough  snapped 
short  off ;  whereupon  the  sorrel 
threw  up  his  hind  legs  and  ran  away, 
dragging  the  pine  bough.  He  went 
back  towards  the  village  of  Leicester, 
half  a  mile  off.  In  a  moment  he  had 
turned  a  corner  and  was  out  of  sight. 

We  looked  after  him  as  long  as  we 
could ;  then  we  looked  at  each  other. 


X. 

THE  FINISH  ;    DULCE  DOMINI. 

It  is  not  conducive  to  amiability 
to  be  left  on  a  hill-side  with  a  carriage 
and  two  or  three  quarts  of  oats. 
When  we  had  looked  at  each  other 
for  a  short  time,  my  friend  asked  if 
I  thought  the  inhabitants  of  Leicester 
were  accustomed  to  seeing  a  horse 
travelling  by  himself,  attired  only  in 
a  hitch-rope  and  a  pine  bough. 

"  Let  us  pray  that  somebody  may 
stop  him  !  "  I  cried  fervently. 

There  was  no  guessing  where  he 
would  go.  If  we  had  tarried  at  all  in 
Leicester,  it  might  have  been  proba- 
ble that  the  horse  would  go  back  to 
the  stable  where  he  had  been  fed. 
But  we  had  driven  on  without  paus- 


142  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

ing  until  we  came  to  this  lovely  slope. 
Something  must  be  done.  We  set 
out  to  walk  rapidly  along  the  road 
we  had  just  traversed.  The  sorrel 
might  conclude  to  go  as  far  as  Brook- 
field  :  my  companion  suggested  that 
he  might  even  retrace  his  steps  to 
Catskill ;  and  we  could  follow,  tele- 
graphing as  we  went. 

'^  There  is  one  fact  which  makes 
me  hope,"  I  said,  as  we  panted  on, 
"  and  that  is  that  the  group  of  men 
around  the  post-office  in  Leicester 
stared  at  us  as  we  went  by  as  if  we 
had  been  a  circus.  If  they  don't 
recognize  the  sorrel,  even  in  the  dis- 
guise of  a  pine  branch,  then  I  don't 
know  the  nature  of  men  who  lounge 
at  a  store  in  a  village." 

Beside  the  inconvenience  caused 
by  this  flight  of  our  steed,  we  both 
suffered  from  a  dreadful  sense  of 
humiliation.  We  knew  what  every 
one  who  heard  of  the  incident  would 


The  Finish,  143 

say  :  "'  Just  like  a  couple  of  women  ! " 
If  a  man  had  met  with  this  mis- 
fortune, nothing  would  ever  have 
been  thought  of  it. 

We  came  to  two  roads,  one  go- 
ing northerly,  and  one  towards 
the  village.  It  was  easy  to  fol- 
low our  sorrel,  however,  for  the 
branch  brushed  a  wide  path  on  the 
gravel.  He  had  gone  to  Leicester. 
On  the  way  we  made  a  vow  that  if 
we  ever  found  the  horse,  nothing 
should  make  us  divulge  this  incident 
of  our  journey.  If  we  did  not  find 
him,  we  were  still  to  be  silent,  and  to 
assert  that  the  sorrel  died  very  sud- 
denly of  colic.  What  was  the  sacri- 
fice of  truth  compared  with  our  dis- 
grace ?  Had  we  not  been  entreated 
to  go  on  our  journey  with  Deacon 
Langley's  mare  ?  A  pine  branch 
laid  heavily  on  that  animal  would 
not  have  made  him  do  this  thing. 

We  were  within  a  few  rods  of  the 


144  ^  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

post-office  when  my  friend  clutched 
my  arm  and  pointed  tragically.  Yes, 
in  the  yard  of  a  house  were  two  men 
and  three  boys,  and  in  the  midst  of 
this  group,  held  by  his  rope,  was  our 
sorrel,  head  up  and  ears  forward. 
While  we  looked,  five  more  men 
from  different  directions  joined  the 
company,  slouching  up  from  road 
and  fields.  Speaking  for  myself,  I 
felt  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to 
turn  and  fly,  sacrificing  the  horse 
and  the  rope  in  my  retreat.  But 
no.  With  an  appearance  of  calmness 
we  walked  forward.  The  circle 
opened  slightly.  All  eyes  were  fixed 
with  boring  intentness  upon  us.  In 
the  intenseness  of  this  masculine  in- 
terest I  think  the  rate  of  expectora- 
tion sHghtly  increased. 

I  pushed  my  companion  forward, 
and  she  pushed  me.  It  happened 
that  she  was  a  trifle  in  advance,  so 
she  felt  impelled  to  speak. 


The  Finish,  145 

"  We  are  very  much  obliged  to 
you,  gentlemen,"  she  said  sweetly. 
"  But  we  will  not  trouble  you  any 
further.  We  will  take  the  horse 
now." 

She  essayed  to  lay  hold  of  the 
rope,  but  the  man  holding  it  did  not 
seem  inclined  to  give  it  up. 

"  Tain't  ben  no  trouble,"  he  said. 
"  I  happened  to  ketch  him  jest  in 
front  of  here.  I  took  the  liberty  to 
take  this  piece  of  pine  tree  off  of 
him,  not  supposin'  you  was  partic'lar 
'bout  lievin '  it  on  any  further.  Be  ye  ?  " 

We  both  hastened  to  assure  him 
that  the  pine  had  fully  served  its 
purpose,  and  we  were  willing  to  part 
with  it  henceforth  forever.  Again 
we  tried  to  take  the  rope. 

"  I  guess  I  '11  lead  him  'long  to 
where  you  've  got  your  buggy,"  said 
the  man.  "  P'raps  I  can  be  useful  in 
harnessin'  of  him.  Know  how  to 
harness  ?  " 


1^6  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

We  said  we  did.  He  was  very- 
kind,  but  we  could  do  all  that  was 
necessary. 

"  I  guess  I  '11  lead  him/*  he  re- 
peated, and  we  felt  ourselves  helpless. 
We  could  be  deeply  grateful,  how- 
ever, that  no  one  else  attempted  to 
follow  us  as  we  resumed  the  march 
back. 

"  Ain't  much  used  to  horses,  be 
ye?"  asked  the  man. 

I  told  him  in  my  most  dignified 
tone  that  I  had  driven,  more  or  less, 
since  I  was  a  child.  I  thought  I 
knew  something  about  horses. 

"  Wall,"  he  responded,  "  you  've 
learnt  one  thing  'bout  'em  to-day, 
ain't  ye?" 

"V/hat?" 

"  Why,  not  to  hitch  'em  to  pine 
branches  not  much  bigger'n  yer  fin^ 
ger.  Besides  pine  's  'bout  's  brittle 
as  a  pipe  stem." 

No  one  made  any  response  to  this, 


The  Finish,  147 

We  went  along  through  the  thick 
dust  of  the  road,  very  meek,  not- 
withstanding our  air  of  bravado. 
The  man  harnessed  the  sorrel.  Then 
he  leaned  against  one  of  the  shafts  a 
few  moments  while  he  told  us  that 
we  ought  to  be  thankful  that  noth- 
ing worse  had  happened,  for  this 
here  animal  did  n't  seem  to  be  a  wo- 
man's horse. 

"  Any  way,"  he  said,  "  'tain't  fittin' 
for  women  to  be  goin'  'bout  alone. 
If  any  thing  happens,  they  can't 
gen'lly  do  nothin',  you  know " 

*'  We  are  very  grateful  to  you,"  I 
interrupted,  in  any  thing  but  a  tone 
of  gratitude.  I  gathered  up  the 
lines. 

"  You  're  welcome,"  he  said,  lifting 
himself  heavily  from  the  shaft.  '^  Be 
glad  to  do  as  much  any  time.  Goin' 
fur?" 

We  did  not  answer  him.  The 
sorrel  started  on  at   that   moment, 


148  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

and  made  good  time  to  Worcester, 
which  town  we  entered  a  half  hour 
before  sunset,  in  a  very  gloomy- 
frame  of  mind. 

We  hardly  looked  about  us  that 
evening,  and  tried  early  to  hide  our 
chagrin  in  sleep.  If  you  are  unlucky 
in  business,  if  you  are  suffering  from 
a  disappointment  in  love,  if  you 
have  met  with  a  humiliating  accident 
with  a  horse,  take  a  driving  trip 
through  some  lovely  country,  and  I 
will  warrant  that  the  hours  in  the 
open  air  will  insure  you  deep  sleep 
through  the  night.  We  slept  pro- 
foundly, and  awakened  the  next  day 
feeling  that  it  would  be  possible  for 
us  to  outlive  the  shame  of  the  after- 
noon before. 

We  prowled  about  the  town  all 
the  forenoon.  We  had  but  about 
thirty  miles  now  between  us  and 
home.  The  sense  of  distance  was 
gone.     That  very  night  we  should. 


The  Finish,  149 

God  willing,  rest   in  the  old  farm- 
house. 

It  was  at  Worcester  that  the  white 
horse,  spotted  with  its  own  blood, 
fell  dead,  having  brought  the  word 
on  April  19,  1775,  of  the  battle  of 
Lexington.  But  on  went  the  rider, 
still  farther,  with  the  soul-stirring 
news.  Main  Street  now,  with  its 
shops  and  its  business,  does  not  look 
much  as  it  did  that  day  when  the 
panting  horseman  came  rushing  up 
its  length.  This  town  is  built  among 
hills  upon  the  Blackstone  River.  It 
is  the  second  city  in  the  State.  I 
am  quoting  from  a  sketch  of  the  city 
which  we  read,  according  to  our  cus- 
tom. As  usual,  however,  we  were 
more  interested  in  the  past  than  in 
the  present,  and  while  we  looked  at 
churches  and  school-houses,  our 
minds  were  rather  with  its  old  his- 
tory than  with  the  visible  prosperity 
of  to-day. 


i^o  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

It  pleased  us  to  know  that  the 
Saxon  name  means  War-Castle.  The 
thirty  families  settled  here  in  1669 
were  very  soon  made  to  leave,  the 
Indians  laying  the  whole  place  deso- 
late. The  settlers  built  a  church 
something  like  a  fort,  and  every  man 
''was  ordered  to  carry  to  Sunday 
service  his  musket  and  six  rounds  of 
ammunition  " : 

Each  man  equipped  on  Sunday  morn, 
With  psalm-book,  shot,  and  powder-horn. 
And  looked  in  form,  as  all  must  grant. 
Like  the  ancient  true  church-militant. 

It  was  in  Worcester  that  some 
misguided,  bold  Scotch  Presbyteri- 
ans had  the  effrontery  to  build  a 
church  in  the  year  1720.  They  soon 
learned  their  mistake.  What  right 
had  they  to  worship  God  after  their 
manner  ?  They  were  taught  a  lesson. 
The  Puritans  could  not  allow  a  ''  cra- 
dle of  heresy "  to  thrive  in  their 
very   midst.      They   destroyed   the 


The  Finish,  1 5 1 

Presbyterian  church.  We  should  be 
grateful  that  they  did  not  hang  the 
Presbyterians.  There  is  no  record 
of  such  hanging,  so  it  is  to  be  sup- 
posed that  the  Scotchmen  were  per- 
mitted to  live.  However  much  we 
admire  them  and  are  thankful  for 
them,  we  are  constrained  to  acknowl- 
edge that  the  Puritans  were  not  what 
is  called  liberal-minded ;  and  we  are 
glad  that  we  were  not  Quakers  or 
Presbyterians  in  that  time. 

We  started  from  Worcester  im- 
mediately after  our  noon  dinner,  and 
took  the  road  to  Milford.  The  west 
was  black  with  "  thunder  heads  " ; 
the  air  was  hot  and  close,  and  sweet 
with  an  **  amber  scent  of  odorous 
perfume " ;  every  wayside  flower 
and  shrub  was  throwing  out  its 
fragrance.  The  robins  sang  with 
continuous  and  reckless  jollity,  as 
they  do  on  an  extremely  warm  day, 
as  if  only  in  such  temperature  were 


152  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy, 

they  absolutely  happy.  Sometimes 
an  oriole  darted  like  a  flame  across 
our  path,  lighted  near,  and  fluted 
forth  its  notes.  Brown-thrashers 
sounded  as  if  they  were  getting 
drunk  with  their  own  melody,  they 
went  on  so  from  note  to  note,  ac- 
complishing every  thing  they  at- 
tempted. The  cicada's  sibilant  cry 
was  sifting  through  every  other 
sound.  There  were  many  fields  of 
grass  mown,  and  men  were  hurrying 
to  rake  some  into  cocks  ;  others  were 
pitching  up  huge  forkfuls  to  half- 
loaded  carts.  Of  course  we  should 
be  caught  in  a  shower  ;  but  we  urged 
the  sorrel,  and  he  responded  nobly, 
taking  long,  swift  strides  over  the 
smooth  road. 

In  a  few  moments  we  saw  that  it 
was  raining  behind  us,  perhaps  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away.  We  looked 
eagerly  for  some  barn  or  shed  in 
which  to  find  shelter;  but  the  houses 


The  Finish,  1 5  3 

on  the  way  here,  if  they  had  barns, 
had  them  full  of  their  own  carriages. 
On  we  went,  the  horse  stretching 
forth  in  a  way  that  made  us  forgive 
him  for  his  escapade  at  Leicester.  In 
five  minutes  the  shower  had  not 
touched  us  ;  we  saw  the  rush  of  the 
rain  on  the  hills  behind  us.  In  five 
minutes  more  we  knew  that  we  were 
ahead  of  the  cloud  ;  it  now  veered  off 
to  the  east ;  we  had  escaped  a  drench- 
ing, thanks  to  the  sorrel.  We 
pulled  him  up  and  allowed  him  to 
walk  up  a  long  slope  and  down  the 
other  side.  By  that  time  the  clouds 
were  piling  themselves  still  more  to 
the  east,  and  we  were  safe  from  any 
showers  they  might  send  down. 

But  it  was  hot.  When  we  drove 
through  the  town  of  Milford,  the 
horse  showed  that  he  had  been  going 
fast.  I  knew  that  we  seemed  to  be 
two  very  cruel  women  to  drive  an 
animal  thus  in  such  a  temperature. 


154  ^  Vacation  i7i  a  Buggy, 

We  ostentatiously  made  our  steed 
walk  by  the  shoe  factories,  whose 
windows  revealed  the  workmen. 

Bellingham  is  a  few  miles  to  the 
southeast  of  Milford,  and  is  one  of 
the  tiniest  of  villages,  whatever  its 
extent  of  township  may  be.  I  sup- 
pose its  business  must  be  the  tilling 
of  the  soil,  for  so  far  as  one  may  see 
there  is  nothing  else  done.  It  has  a 
little  settlement,  a  little  church,  a 
little  monument  to  soldiers  of  the 
Rebellion,  a  littlestore  containingthe 
post-office.  It  was  very  still.  Ap- 
parently no  one  looked  from  a  win- 
dow to  see  the  *'  passin'." 

Franklin,  however,  is  a  thrifty, 
growing  place  on  the  New  York  and 
New  England  Road.  It  has  straw 
factories,  and  rubber  works,  and  felt- 
ing mills,  and  I  know  not  what.  Af- 
ter Bellingham  it  seemed  like  a  very 
great  place  indeed.  It  is  familiar 
also.     Are  we  not  constantly  driving 


The  Finish,  155 

to  Franklin  for  this  thing  and  that  ? 
For  our  house  is  not  more  than  four 
miles  away  now,  over  a  hilly,  woody 
road  from  which  can  be  had  lovely 
glimpses  of  the  Milton  Blue  Hill  at 
our  left. 

I  must  not  forget  to  state  that  we 
stopped  at  our  post-office  and  found 
a  package  wrapped  about  many  times 
with  a  very  strong  cord,  and  addressed 
in  a  hand  that  was  unformed,  but 
incHned  to  flourishes.  When  the 
parcel  was  unfolded,  it  was  found  to 
contain  two  Indian  arrow-heads. 
Then  we  knew  that  the  boy  who 
came  to  our  aid  in  the  matter  of  the 
sponge  near  Amherst  had  kept  his 
word  ;  he  had  been  better  than  his 
word,  for  he  had  only  promised  one 
arrow-head,  and  here  were  two. 

It  is  good  to  travel  in  a  buggy 
with  the  friend  of  your  heart.  It  is 
good  to  be  en  rapport  with  the  sim- 
plicity and  the  strength  of  the  hills. 


156  A  Vacation  in  a  Buggy. 

But  it  is  sad  when  the  end  of  the 
journey  comes.  Is  it  not  something, 
however,  to  be  able  to  say,  *'  I,  too, 
have  been  in  Arcadia  "  ? 


THE  END. 


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